PS 1124 
.B6 G3 
1855 
Copy 1 









z_r-a uutr 



FEENOH'S 

^0©£\K1 ®G§A[R5flA 
NO. 10. 



\ 



THE 



GAME OP LOVE. 



AN ORIGINAL COMEDY 



Iff FIVE ACTS. 



BY 



JOHN BROUGHAM, ESQ. 

With Cast of Characters. Stage Business. Costumes. Relative 

Positions, etc. etc. 



AS PERFORMED AT WALLACE'S THEATRE. 






PRICE, 



NEW-YORK : 
SAMUEL FRENCH, 

121 NASSAU-STREET. 



12* CENTS. 



" 



r 



FRENCH'S 

AMERICAN DEAMA, 

K\)z Stctms SSUition. 
No. X. 



THE 



GAME OF LOVE. 



AN ORIGINAL COMEDY, 



IN FIVE ACTS. 



BY JOHN BROUGHAM. 



TO WHICH ARE ADDED, 

A Description of the Costume — Cast of the Characters — Entrances and Exits 

— Relative Positions of the Performers on the Stage, and 

the whole of the Stage Business, 

AS PERFORMED AT WALLACE'S THEATRE, N. Y 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight 

hundred and fifty-five, 

By JOHN BROUGHAM, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the 

Southern District of New York. 



NEW- YORK : 



***«^ SAMUEL FRENCH, 



121 NASS AU-STREET. 



^ X / 



i&nfst of tije CJjaractevff, 

4s ^r*^ Performed at Wedlock' s Theatre, JS. Y., Sept. 13th, 1855. 

PawZ WeZdon Mr. Lester. 

Counsellor Cory don Foxglove - " H. Placide. 

Ted Murphy ------ " Brougham. 

Jfr. Grace " Stewart. 

Lawrence Be Merfie, Esq. - - ■ - - " Stoddart. 

Jacob Chubb - - - - - - " Holland. 

Captain Slim - - - - - " Colly. 

Major Doolittle - - - - - " Oliver. 

Alice Devereaux ------ Mrs. Hoey. 

Miss Phozbe Tangle - - - - - Mrs. Vernon. 

Mrs. Laxorence De Merfie - - - - Mrs. Brougham. 

Perkins ------- Mrs. Stephens. 

Mary ------- Miss Carman. 

Guests, SfC., Sj-c., tf-c. 



\ 



STAGE DIRECTIONS. 



EXITS AND ENTRANCES. 

R. means Right ; L. Left ; F. the Flat, or Scene running across 
the back of the Stage ; D. F. Door in Flat ; R. D. Right Door; L. 
D. Left Door : S. E. Second Entrance ; U. E. Upper Entrance; M. 
D. Middle Door. 

RELATIVE POSITIONS. 

R. means Right ; L. Left ; C. Centre ; R. C. Right of Centre ; 
L. C. Left of Centre. 

R. RC. C. LC. L. 

*** The Reader is supposed to be on the Stage, facing the 
Audience. 



o 

N 

"S. 
» I 



"- 



ftogtume. 

PAUL. — FiVs£ Dress : Rough jacket and dark pantaloons — red 
shirt. Second Dress : Fashionable walking-dress. 

FOXGLOVE. — Black dress-coat — white double-breast vest — 
black pantaloons — white neck-tie. 

TED MURPHY.— First Dress: That of an Irish emigrant. 
Second Dress : Full fashionable suit. Third Dress : Blue dress- 
coat, with bright buttons — flowered vest — gray pantaloons, turned 
up at bottom. 

MR. DE MERFIE.— First Dress: Black suit. Second Dress : 
Spanish costume. 

GRACE. — First Dress: Gentleman's walking-dress. Second 
Dress : Evening-dress. 

SLIM. — Fancy-costume. 

DOOLITTLE.— Do.— do. 

CHUBB.— Page's livery. 

ALICE. — First Dress: Morning-costume. Second Dress : Vis- 
iting-costume. 

MRS. DE MERFIE.— First Dress : Visiting-costume. Second 
Dress : That of a Turkish Sultana. 

MRS. FOXGLOVE.— First Dress: Gray silk. Second Dress : 
Showy visiting-dress. 

PERKINS.— Dress of a lady's-maid. 

GUESTS.— Fancy-costumes. 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 



ACT I. 

SCENE I. — A handsome Apartment. 

Enter Perkins, with a box, from r. d. 

Per. (2 e. r.) Come in. girl. [Enter % girl, c] Fou're to take this 
back too, and just be good enough to say, with Miss Devereaux's 
compliments, that's not a bit like what she ordered, and you needn't 
trouble yourselves any more, as she's changed her mind. [Exit 
girl, c] And that's a thing she has done pretty often lately ! — I 
don't know what's vexed her, for my part. I only wish she'd get 
married to this Mr. Emerson, at once, for then, I suppose we'd have 
the barometer of her ladyships's temper stick at set fair, for at least 
a month or so. He has been four years courting her, though, to be 
sure, he hasn't been so often here lately. 

Enter Mary, 2 e. r., from room, with a tray. 

Mary. It's not my fault, mem, — if you waits till it gets all cold, 
I ain't to blame ! 

Per. What's the matter now 1 [Takes a slice. 

Mary. [Eating as she goes. ,] Sorra bit of me knows ! My heart's 
bruk intirely with her contrariness. It's too much money that she 
has, I b'leeve. Why, she ate no more breakfast nor a Canary-bird ! 
In troth, if riches took away the strength of my appetite, I'd 
rather stay poor, and keep my relish for vittles ! [Bell rings.] Lor 
save us, there's a tug ! [Runs off, c. 

Per. I'm not supposed to be so close, — ring away. [Bell louder.] 
There's the real Creole temper, — I must let it disperse a little. She's 
coming ! [Runs towards door. 

Enter Alice. 

Al. Perkins, wrhy do you annoy me this way 1 If I hadn't the best 
temper in the world, I should be seriously angry with you. Where 
are the letters 1 Why don't you answer me ? the letters 1 

Per. What letters, mum 1 

Al. Are there no letters'? 

Per. No, mum. 



/ 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 5 

Al. Then why did you not say so, at once ! Bear with me, Per- 
kins, I have much to perplex, to anger, nay, to madden me ! 

{Crosses l. 

Per. Indeed, mum ! Yes, I know, mum ! 

Al. You know ! How dare you say that] What do you know] 

Per. Oh, nothing, mum ! 

Al. Did any but my own heart imagine that heart's inquietude, 
the shame would kill me ! [Aside.'] Perkins, leave me now, and if 
you have any desire to retain your present home, and my protec- 
tion, forget all you see or hear, except your immediate duties. 

Per. Certainly, mum ! [Aside.] Rather peppery to-day ! 

[Exit, 2 e. b. 

Al. Why, why does Alfred remain so long absent] I dread to 
ask myself the question ! no reason — no letter : from time to time 
I have fancied a studied effort in his tone and manner, words of 
affection, with eyes unqiet, and averted, and yet, whenever I hinted 
at this apparent change, his assurance calmed and quieted my throb- 
bing heart ! Three weeks have past, since last I saw him, — 
three weeks ! When I remember that scarce so many hours parted 
us, in the bright morning of our loves, what must I think, but that 
he no longer holds me in his thoughts, — that some other has dis- 
placed me 1 — no, no ! that cannot, shall not be ; at least, f will not 
live to see it! [Opens workbox, l., and takes letters.'] Here are his 
letters, all of them, — here the rose-bud, which was his first gift, and 
here a lock of his hair ! 

Phce. [ Without.] I will not have it ! I must be obeyed ! Do you 
suppose I'm nobody 1 

Al. There's my strange companion, Miss Tangle ! She mustn't 
see my perturbation, or I should have to answer countless questions ! 
[Puts up letters, Sf-c.] She has established herself in perfect author- 
ity here, even over me, and yet, the thought of what she would do, 
were I to part from her, makes me endure the singular despotism. 

Enter Miss Phcebe, and Jacob, a Page, c. 

Jac. (c.) [Whimpering.] I didn't go to do it, mum ! 

Al. What's the matter] 

Phce,. Matter enough ! This great overgrown boy won't keep his 
fingers out of the preserves ! 

Jac. It was the cat, mum, — indeed it was — I seed him a feedin' ! 

Phce. Oh, my ! You ought to be ashamed of yourself, sir, at your 
time of life ! By the bye, what is your age] there is no guessing 
at it, to look at your impudent face ! 

Jac. Thirteen, and eleven months, mum ! Mother's a hard-work- 
ing woman, with twelve more, all younger than me, and father's a 
seafarin' man, an' we all has to work for our livin'. 

Al. You are the lad whom Mrs. Singleton recommended — you 
look older than you say ! 



6 THE GAME OF LOVE. 

Jac. Looks is deceptious, mum. I grow'd fast — besides, poor 
folks' children has a way of lookin' old, at a werry early age, 
mum. 

Phoz. ( Crosses c.) You'd do me a very great favor, Miss Devereaux, 
if you would inform the domestics of your establishment, that I am 
to be looked up to as something more than a dependant. My de- 
votion to your interests surely demands such a concession ! They 
seem to consider me nobody in the house ! 

AL Most assuredly, I wish them all to obey you. 

Phx. [To Jacob.] Why do you stand there like a fool? Go about 
your work ! [Jacob going ] Stop, hand me a chair ! [Jacob does so.] 
Go! 

Jac. [Aside, and going.'] I only wish T was a careless engineer, 
and you was walking on the Harlem track, if you wouldn't switch 
off suddent, I'm a Dutchman ! [Exit, c. 

Phx. This would be a nicely regulated household, were it not for 
my constant care ! 

AL. Indeed, I'm very much obliged to you for taking so much 
trouble. 

Phce. I'm glad to hear you say that. You look sad ! What ails 
you ? 

Al. Nothing particular. 

Phx. Don't tell me that ! There is, and, moreover, I know what 
it is : — you think it very strange that Mr. Emerson hasn't been here 
lately. For my part, I'm glad of it. [Alice rises, and crosses k.] 
Don't wince — like the Doctors, I probe your wound, only to cure it. 
Pooh! What do you want to marry for '! Give up your free will 
and independence, to be the life-slave of a male tyrant ! Follow 
my example and advice ; defy and despise the selfish creatures, as 
7do.[ Alice crosses l.] There, now, don't fidget about the room, 
for gracious sake ! Sit down, and listen to reason ! you know it's all 
for your good. Shall I draw a picture of married life for you, — the 
female view, I mean 1 

AL No, — how can you, never having been married 1 

Phx. Thank my good fortune, never; but nature has gifted me 
with eyesight, and faces are books easily read. Oh ! what volumes 
of misery I have perused in such matrimonial records ! 

Al. You are unjust ! I have seen many happy couples 

Phoz. My dear, you only saw their visiting countenances. I have 
followed them home. You have merely looked at the pictures, 
thinly scattered here and there amongst the pages, but I have read 
the melancholy prose, from the fulsome preface to the blank con- 
clusion ! 

Al. You certainly have selected a most agreeable topic for con- 
versation. 

Phoz. I'm sorry if it annoys you, but I can't help it. It's my duty 
when I see young people heedlessly rushing 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 7 

Al. You will oblige me by changing the conversation — yon must ! 
[Rises also.'] Pray, pardon me. I have had my own way so long, 
that I am selfishly pettish when crossed. It is unworthy of me, I 
know, — } r our kindness deserves a better recompense ! 

Phoz. You're a good girl ! you'll do what I ask you with regard 
to the establishment, won't you ? there's a dear ! 

Al. I don't know what you wish ; they all seem to me to be very 
respectful and willing. 

Phoz. To you, of course, my love ; because you are known to be 
the wealthy source from which they derive their support. 

Al. I cannot believe that so mean a spirit exists even amongst the 
humblest. 

Phoz. Your excellent heart judges as its own promptings would 
dictate ; but I, who have to endure their insolence, know to the con- 
trary. Now, suppose, just to test the correctness of my estimate, 
you would sufier them to fancy that I had equal claims upon 
their respect with yourself ; let them imagine me to be rich also : 
it would do you no harm, and would make my life comparatively a 
happy one. 

Al. With all my heart. Say what you choose ; I sha'n't con- 
tradict it. 

Phoz. You are an angel ! I only ask the privilege for a very few 
days, when, [aside] if I don't make a substance out of the 
shadow, I'll be content to go back to my house-keys for life. 

[Bell outside. 

Al. It must be he ! My heart rings out his name, and the sweet 
echo thrills through every sense ! How slow they are ! [Rings 
bell.] Yes, 'tis his footstep, and all his truancy is forgiven — for- 
gotten. • 

Enter Mr. Corydon Foxglove, c. d. 

Fox. Excuse this unceremonious call, but I have business of im- 
portance. 

Al. You, sir — only you! How dare you"? [Crosses r.] Oh, 
what a miserable fate is mine ! You've made me very unhappy, 
sir ; you have destroyed my peace of mind for ever ! 

[Exit, in tears, 2 e. e. 

Fox. The devil I have ! Stay a moment, Miss ! — How do you 
do. ma'am 1 Have you any idea what she means, for I hav'n't : — 
but, who the deuce could ever make out a woman's meaning 1 
they're all alike, — old and young, spinsters and school-girls — 
riddles, sphynxes, enigmas, and conundrums. I pity the insane 
individual who wastes his time in the vain endeavor to guess at 
them. 

Phoz. Sir, you're complimentary ! 

Fox. Madam, I'm sincere. 

Phoz. The confidential friend and legal adviser of a lady might be 
a little more gallant. 



8 THE GAME OF LOVE. 

Fox. Would if I could, ma'am. Non est inventus — can't be 
summoned. I wish you would be good enough to let Miss Deve- 
reaux know that I have a letter of some importance to read her. 

Phot. Certainly. King that bell. 

Fox. Coot ! must do it, I suppose. [Rings hell, l.] Excuse the 
remark : — are you not Miss Devereaux's housekeeper 1 

Phoe. Sir ! don't be insolent ! 

Fox. [Aside.'] Whew ! On the wrong track — made a mistake. 
Singular enough, though — always thought she was ! Poor rela- 
tion, I suppose. — Indignant indigence ! 

Enter Jacob, c. 

Jac Me, mum? [Phcebe motions towards Foxglove. 

Fox. Tell Miss Devereaux, I am anxious to see her, on a suhject 
of importance. 

Jac. Yes, sir. 

Phoe. And beg of her to send me the check-book. I want to 
discharge my jeweller's account. 

Jac. Your what, mum 1 

Phoe. Stupid boy ! My check-book ! Go ! 

[Exit Jacob, 2 e. k. 

Fox. Jeweller, eh 1 Error in the pleadings again ! 

Phoe. To judge from your conversation, Mr. Foxglove, you must 
be a terrible woman-hater ! 

Fox. Bless you ! not at all, madame. I admire womankind art- 
istically, just as one does a beautiful landscape, — at a distance, 
telescopically. My love for the sex, madame, is extreme. In a 
multitude, they are magnificent ; but a single specimen is only inter- 
esting to me, so long as she remains so. 

Enter Jacob, 2 e. r. 

Jac. Miss Devereaux's compliments, "sir, — and she'll see you in 
a few moments ; — and here's your check-book, mum. [Aside.] 
Didn't know the old 'un had an account before. Deceptious world, 
this ! [Exit, c. 

Fox. [Crosses r.] If she knew what I have to communicate, 
she'd be a little more anxious. 

Phoe. [At table, l. writing several checks. ~[ My niece informs me — 

Fox. [Starting.] Madame! 

Phoe. I say, my niece informs me that you have shown extraordi- 
nary care in the management of her pecuniary matters. I have a 
great mind to — and yet, your sentiments are so singular with 
regard to our sex, Mr. Foxglove, that I should hesitate to trust my 
property to your custody and supervision. 

Fox. [Aside.] I smell a rich client ! Figures of speech merely, 
madame; that's all, I assure you. I entertain the profoundest 
respect, as in duty bound, for the sex, per se, as a sex — all and sin- 
gular ; quantum valebant ! 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 9 

Pha.. Before I proceed any further, permit me to ask what your 
opinion is with regard to matrimony ? 

Fox. A delicate question, madam. But to speak truly, I greatly 
prefer to look on at the uncertain game, than to take a hand in it 
myself. 

Phoz. Then, sir, we agree perfecthy, and if you could only influ- 
ence Miss Devereaux 

Fox. No exertion of mine shall be spared, madame. rest assured ! 
I hold in my hand a communication which quashes the present suit 
irrevocably ! 

Phoz. My dear sir, you please me beyond expression ! From 
henceforth, pray consider yourself my legal adviser, and may I 
hope, friend ! 

Fox. Oh, madame ! need I say that my heart and hand are at your 
service 1 

Phoz. Sir? 

Fox. Professionally, of course, and without prejudice, non dam- 
nifcatus ! 

Phoz. My niece is coming from her apartment ! You fully under- 
stand the conditions upon which I consent to entrust you with the 
supervision of my pecuniary affairs ? 

Fox. Distinctly, madame ! I have the honor to wish you a good 
day ! 

[They bow formally. Phoebe exits with a heap of checks and 
book, c. 

Very good morning's w r ork ! By the shade of Justinian, if I 
know any thing of my ground, I spy a glorious harvest from this 
seed-sowing ! How easy it is to know a person of ample means ! 
No one can deceive me ! There were thousands of acres in the 
sweep of her glance, the responsibility of millions seemed to swell 
within her chest ! Her eye flashed diamonds of the first water — 
real tangible Tiffany's, — and the rustle of her heavy silk dress 
was as crisp and satisfactory, as though it were fashioned out of 
new bank-bills of the largest denominations ! 

Enter Alice, 2 e. r. 

Al. My dear friend, I owe you an apology for the thoughtless 
words I let drop when you entered. I was disappointed, agitated, 
foolish, but I've had a good cry, and now I feel better. 

Fox. I'm glad of that, for I bring you somewhat startling intelli- 
gence. 

Al. Of him ! I mean of 



Fox. Don't be so precipitate, but prepare yourself 

Al. For what ? — Good news, or bad 1 It can't be bad, for you 
smile ! Go on — you torture me ! 

Fox. Well, then, Mr. Emerson 

Al. Ah ! stay ! that word has killed me ! 



10 THE GA.ME OF LOVE. 

Fox. Oh, no ! not quite, you'll survive it ! 

Al. Go on, for mercy's sake ! Some terrible misfortune has oc- 
curred to him ! 

Fox. Not an uncommon one. 

Al. What do you mean I 

Fox. He has gone the way of all fools. 

Al. Dead! 

Fox. Married ! Cake and cards in my pocket. [Alice faints in 
Fox's arms.'] Pleasant, 'pon my life ! expected it, though ! I'm not 
exactly used to this sort of thing, and I can't get at the bell ! Hollo ! 
here, some one! [Calls. 

Al. [Suddenly starling up.~\ Hush ! don't call ! 

Fox. Hem ! A little vitality left yet, I perceive ! 

Al. Sufficient to restrain me from exhibiting my mortification to 
the world ! Can this be true '! Let me see the letter. 

Fox. That's right ! I applaud your spirit and resolution ! Here — 
no, that's the cake. There! [Gives letter.'] Concise, but con- 
clusive 

Al. Alas ! the pitiless bolt has fallen, and my heart is shattered 
for ever ! Oh, that I knew how to be revenged upon him for this 
unpardonable slight ! 

Fox. Nothing so easy ! An action for " Breach," highly popular 
amusement — Court crowded — damages certain ! You have all his 
letters, have you not 1 

Al. I have. 

Fox. Full of admiration and sentiment, I hope ! Pleasant read- 
ing for a jury ; delicious pickings for a vulpene cross-examiner ! 
glorious pastime for the newspaper reporters ! Astonishing how 
fantastical the private affections look on public parade ! to see gold- 
en thoughts transmuted into leaden type ; to find the beautiful arti- 
ficial flowers nothing but waste paper and old rags ; and all those 
burning sentences, that used to set the soul on fire, quietly extin- 
guished by a cup full of printers' ink. Hem ! When shall I com- 
mence proceedings 1 

Al. [Walks about agitated.] Never! 

Fox. Beyond the statute of limitation. 

Al. [Crosses, l ] Henceforward, the world to me is nothing but 
a blank — a hopeless, cheerless, melancholy blank! 

Fox. Bright look-out ahead ; but some people think when it 
rains, that there never can be any more sunshine. 

Al. I have too much pride for tears ; but they flow inwardly 
upon a heart whose fires are quenched forever ! 

Fox. Then, what a waste of time it is to play upon the ashes ! 
The real state of the case is this : The firm of Cupid and Company 
is burnt out ; and as there was no insurance on the premises, all 
you have to do is, to clear away the rubbish, build up a more com- 
fortable internal establishment, and take care you don't admit any 
such incendiaries a wain. 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 11 

Al. It is worse than cruel, — it is unmanly to jest thus with mis- 
fortune and bereavement. Pra} T , leave me. I yearn to be alone 
with my gloomy thoughts. [Site.] I can combat them best by my- 
self. 

Fox. You're sure you won't do anything desperate 1 Poor girl ! 
I know she feels keenly this fellow's conduct ; but a little caustic 
burns beyond the wound, which else might kill. — Good day, Miss 
Devereaux. I leave with you both my condolence and my congra- 
tulation. You can take which you please. Excuse the remark. 

[Exit Foxglove, c. 

Al. Oh, Alfred, Alfred ! my girlhood's idol, my woman's pride, 
— come back, and I will forgive all. Fool that I am ! — is he not 
wedded 1 — false, worthless, despicable! Yet, in spite of all: the 
lcve he taught me — spurned, rejected — my own self-respect 
quenched in a sea of shame, — this fatal passion is so blent with 
life, that with life only can it be destroyed. What is to become of 
me 1 How arise from the soul-depth of this degradation 1 [Reads.] 
" There is that within my breast ichich forbids me to become the slave 
of amj woman." Oh, for some sudden, startling, absolute revenge, 
not upon him alone, but upon his whole detested sex. I won't 
have one in the house ! [Kings bell.] Not one ! I'll never look 
upon another ! I'll live in some retired and undiscoverable place — 
collect around me none but the deceived and deserted of my own 
sex, and mingle our sorrows and our maledictions together. 

Enter Jacob, c. 

Jac. Ring, mum 1 

Al. [Crosses, u.] Yes ! Leave my house directly ! 

Jac. Don't go to say that, mum ! What for, mum 1 What 
have I done, mum 1 

AL Don't answer me, but go ! Send William up to me, and 
James. 

Ja. William 's very sick, indeed, to-day, mum. 

Al. Wei!, — he needn't go till to-morrow. 

Ja. We expects he'll be worse then, mum ! 

Al. He can wait until he. is able to move — but James 

Ja. Poor James, mum is more to be pitied nor William ! 

Al. Is he ill, too 1 

Ja Oh, yes, mum, to his heart ! You know his sweet little 
child as was sick, mum 1 Well, mum, he 's gone away forever ; 
and a great part of poor James's mind and spirit has wandered 
away with him ! 

Al. And his life was wrapped up in that boy ! This is a real 
grief, to which mine is as nothing. I have been hasty and unjust. 
I have changed my mind, Jacob ; you can remain. 

Ja. Oh, thank you, mum. I'm so delighted 



12 THE GAME OF LOVE. 

Al. That will do — go. Once more to bedew his letters with my 
agonizing tears, and then prepare my soul for its eternal solitude ! 

[Takes out letters, weeps, SfC 

Jac. [Imitatimg .] Once more, with my agonizing tears, — to dash 
my buttons I've forgot the rest. [Exit, 2 is. k. 

curtain. 



ACT II. 

SCENE I.— A Street. 

Enter Paul, 2 e. r. 

Paul. (2 e. r.) Well, ill luck has set its seal upon my destiny 
with a vengeance. No way left in which to earn a meal ! This, 
then, is the home of philanthropy, the hive of industry, the ready mart, 
wherein exertion may find a channel. Oh, my poor father ! when, 
after so many sacrifices, you educated your children, you thought, in 
the simplicity of your affection, that knoxclcdge was the open sesame 
which would compel the world-caverns to yield up their treasures. 
Lo the result ! a thousand theoretical pathways to eminence float 
dream-like through my imagination, but not one practical usefulness 
can I command, to lead me to a dinner. [Going towards wing. 

Enter Foxglove, 2 e. l 

Fox. Confound that loitering rascal ! Ho, my friend ! Will you 
condescend to earn a shilling by carrying a box for me across the 
street ? 

Paul. Willingly. 

Fox. Step in, then. It's a little too much for me, but you are 
young and strong. 

Paul. I attend you, sir. [Exeunt, 2 e. l.. in house. 

Enter Ted Murphy, 1 e r. 

Ted. Be me soul, and this Ameriky's a bigger place than I 
thought, for I've gone through a mile of streets already, and there's 
no end to them yet ! Av I could only find Larry, I'd be the happiest 
man that iver stood in shoe leather ! [Rings at Foxglove's house, 
L. 2 e.] I wonder if they've got any tobaccy here'? 

Enter Footman, from door, 2 e. l. 

Foot. Well, fellow, what do want 1 

Ted. I'm in the purshoot of knowledge, av you please, yer 
honor ! Do you happen to know one Larry Murphy, from the parish 
of Dunduckedy, near Mud Island — a son of ould Murphy, the 
reapin' hook maker, and a brother of me own, that kem to Ameriky 
in the ship Shamrogue, the spring of the year Anno Dominy 1825, 
from Wax ford \ 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 13 

Foot. How the deuce do I know ? 

Ted. Well, I didn't know but you might, sir ! There's no harm 
in axin'. Good mornin' to you, sir ! 

[Footman shuts door in his face. 

Re-enter Foxglove, from House, 2 e. l., and Paul, with a box. 

Fox. There's the house yonder, do you see ? No. 64. Let them 
know that I will call myself, in half an hour. My clerk has gone 
out, and I have no one to attend to the office. 

Ted. {To Fox.} You didn't know one Larry? 

[Fox goes in, l. 2 e. 

Paul. It tasks me beyond my failing strength. 

Ted Good morning to you, sir ! Maybe, sir, you might have 
met in yer travels wid one Larry Murphy, from the parish of Dun- 
duckedy, near Mud Island, &c. ? Why, murther alive, it's goin' to 
faint ye are ! Give me a howld of that box, my poor fellow, you're 
not used to this kind of thing, I can see that ! Sit down a bit. it 
ain't life and death ! I heerd the master say, he wouldn't be over for 
half-an-hour. You never heard tell of Larry Murphy ? No ? There, 
don't trouble yerself ; I'll carry it for you, if you 'take care of my 
bundle. 

Paul. Then the shilling is justly yours — here, take it. 

Ted. The divil a take ! A bargain's a bargain, all the world over! 
Well, if yer proud, and want to earn your money, lay a howld of 
the other side, and we'll carry it betune us. 

Paul. You're a good-hearted, worthy fellow ! 

Ted. None of yer blarney ! If you could only tell me where to 
light on Larry Murphy, I'd make a Prince of ye, for he's as rich as 
King Solomon's Temple ! [Exeunt, 2 e. r. 

SCENE II. — Miss Deveeeaux's Drawing-room — Alice, k., dis- 
covered with Perkins, l. 

Per. You are ill, Miss, very ill ! If you'll take my advice, you'd 
have your physician. 

Al. What ! expose my wretchedness to the eyes of the prying 
world 1 You must be mad ! Get me some opium, and leave me : 
and, remember, if you breathe a word of my almost distraction, you 
do not remain with me another instant ! I would have them fancy 
that I laughed at what has occurred ! 

Per. I'll tell everybody that I left you singing and dancing, if 
you wish it. I am all yours, even to my conscientious scruples ! 
This storm's too violent to last long ! [Aside.] [Exit, 1 e. l. h. 

Al. The long, sleepless, agonizing night has but increased my 
wretchedness ! I would kill myself, if I could only view what effect 
my death would have on him. [Rises.] But no ! I must wring 
his heart living ! I'll marry, immediately, any one, the first who 
offers, the first man I meet, the more unworthy the better, — that 



14 THE GAME OF LOVE. 

he may see the miserable grade in which my memory associated 
him ! I will have a husband, but he must be a serf, a slave, an 
image, set up to sustain my dignity ! I'll buy some servile creature, 
and be his tyrant ! If I cannot attract, my money will ; no matter, 
be he what he may, I must despise, detest, and loathe him. 

Paul. [Outside.] Into this room, you say 1 

Al. Who is this"? To my wish, here comes a poor wretch, 
whom fate is tired of torturing, or perhaps, would torture more ! 

Enter 'Paul and Ted, c. d. 

Ha ! there are two ! Well, let fortune decide ! 

Paul. A box, madame, from Councillor Foxglove, who requested 
me to say that he will do himself the pleasure of calling in half an 
hour. 

Al. [Not looking.] Very well. Come here, one of you. 

Ted. (l.) She wants to give you a thrifle. Why don't you go, you 
fool? 

Paul, (c.) No, it's your turn now. I mustn't be paid twice. Go 
you. 

Ted. The divil -a toe ! It isn't my job, and right's right, all the 
world over ! 

Al. Do you hear me 1 

Ted. There, go along ! And just ax her, for me, if she knows 
any thing about Larry. 

Paul. [Advancing.] What is your pleasure, madame 1 

Al. Send your companion away, — I wish to speak with you 
alone. 

Paul. Certainly, madame — my friend — 

Ted. Oh ! I heerd her, an I'll make myself scarce in two two's ! 
You didn't ax her about Larry. If you please, mam, did you ever 
come across one Larry Murphy 1 

Al. Go, sir ! [Exit Ted, c. d. 

Al. Pardon me for a moment. [Brings down chair, r. c] Sit 
down. 

Paul. I thank you, madame. 

Al. Do as I order you ! 

Paul. Undoubtedly, madame! [Sits aside.] What a lovely vision ! 
but, heavens, how cold and proud ! 

Al. [Aside ] In spite of myself, I feel abashed in this man's 
presence ! What am I about to do ! To violate those nice proprie- 
ties which should invest woman with the sanctity of respect, for- 
ever to annihilate my own esteem, and yet he must be made to 
sulfer, through my grief! I am resolved ! [To Paul.] Are you 
poor 1 

Paul. Yes, madame, very poor. 

Al. So much the better ! 

Paul. And honest, — up to the present. 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 15 

Al. I did not ask you that. 

Paul. I am aware that it is a most plebeian virtue. 

Al. How wouid you like to be rich i 

Paul. Madame <— 

Al. Did you not hear me 1 — How would you like to be rich 1 

Paul. The novelty of the sensation would doubtless be agreeable. 
Thus having answered jest for jest, madame, — I wish you a more 
commendable amusement, than to mock at those whom fortune 
has denied the power to retaliate. [Going. 

Al. Stay ! 1 insist upon it ! You misunderstand me. I am 
strangely situated, and am about to make to you a strange and sin- 
gular proposal ! I wish to bestow wealth upon you — to make you 
rich. What are you 1 

Paid. A man ! 

Al. I can make you more, — a gentleman. 

Paul. Excuse my ignorance, madame, — I have hitherto thought, 
they were synonymous terms. 

Al. What's your occupation 1 

Paul. Nothing. 

Al. You have been unfortunate 1 

Paul. Any change would better my condition. 

Al. Perhaps !- — don't speak to me, but listen ! I may surprise 
you, but after this preparation, I should imagine not. Don't inter- 
rupt me ! I have told you that it " is in my power to give you 
wealth and station. Do you comprehend how, — or must I be more 
explicit 1 

Paul. It would be much more satisfactory. 

AL Insensible ! — You must become my husband ! [A -pause.] 
Why are you silent '! Am I rejected 1 Speak ! 

Paul. Madame, as I told you, I am poor — miserably poor ! but I 
have that within my keeping, which is better in the sight of Heaven 
than rank and wealth without it. I mean, madame, the honor of a 
man ! I think I understand you, at last ; — but no, madame, no ! 
My own poverty is irksome enough. I cannot bear the burden of 
a line lady's shame ! 

Al. How dare you, sir ! Insolent — begone ! — No. [Aside.] He 
will deem me that which he has spoken. I must explain ; the 
thought was prompted by no unworthy impulse. Listen, sir ! You 
are very bold, but you are mistaken. He who sought my hand 
and fortune, and whom I loved from girlhood, — is false — is wedded 
to another. My soul burns to be revenged ; but the name of man 
is hateful to me ; in reality, I will never take upon myself the du- 
ties and affections of a wife ; it is for this that I resolved to marry 
the first individual I met. You are he : you are poor ; it will be 
something for you to be raised out of poverty. In the eyes of the 
world, you will be my husband ; but you must bind yourself by a 
solemn oath, never to be more to me than you are at this moment, 



16 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 



standing there. Now, I presume, you thoroughly understand me. 
I shall leave you to consider on the subject. If you think favorably 
of it, I shall find you here on my return ; if not, go forth at once, 
and forget all that you have seen and heard. [Exit, 2 e. r. 

Paul. Phew ! Talk of the Arabian Nights ! In truth, the 
Tempter has put on his most enticing garb. How must I resolve 1 
There is but one course to pursue — flight upon the instant. Inde- 
pendence and poverty will far outweigh the empty gauds of station, 
joined with such soul-slavery ! How beautiful she is ! there's fas- 
cination in her passionate glance. What a priceless treasure would 
be such a woman's earnest love ! Why do I linger here 1 She is 
now in the full phrensy of her disappointment, and might not the 
respect and true devotion which, I feel, are born within my heart, 
in time relax the chain 1 Alas ! poor human nature ! She's 
here — it is my fate. Let come what may, I will embrace it. 
[Re-enter Alice, 2 e, r. h.] Madame, I will spare you the mortifi- 
cation of a question. I am ready. The conditions, to be sure, 
are somewhat unpalatable ; but 

Al. (r.) You consent ; that is sufficient. What is your name 1 

Paul. Paul Weldon. It is the first time in my life I blushed to 
hear it uttered. 

Al. Your feelings are immaterial to me. You will there receive 
[pointing to table, r. h.] the first instalment of your salary. 

Paul. [Aside.] That stabs home like a knife. No matter. 

AL Remember, I retain, and pay you, as I would any other of 
my hired servants, and the slightest deviation from our solemn 
compact restores you to your poverty ! You must purchase clothes 
more fitting for the situation you are about to fill. Attend me here, 
as quickly as you can ; in the meantime, I shall have the contract 
prepared, and ready for signature. The marriage will follow after 
the usual delay. Now, leave me ! 

Paul. [Aside.'] Most business-like and satisfactory, I must say ! 
A kind of desperation urges me through this shameful bargaining 
of soul and manhood ! Be still, my throbbing heart ! [Aloud/] 
Madame, your most obedient, very humble servant ! [Exit, c. d. 

Al. Weldon, — I'm glad the creature has a name I needn't be 
ashamed to hear pronounced ! I feared some humbler cognomen, — 
he's good-looking enough to hand me to my carriage, and carry my 
fan in public. To attend me to the Opera, and to wring the heart 
of him, — the false, the vile, with indignant envy ! 

Enter Foxglove, c. 

Fox. Well, my dear, here I am, and here, I see, are all the papers 
connected with your estates. Now, what is this curious emergency 
you hint at in your note, that makes it necessary they should be 
looked over so particularly 1 

Al. Simply this, my dear friend, — I am about to be married. 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 17 

Fox. Lunatic asylums are wonderful institutions. You'll excuse 
the remark ! 

Al. (r.) I sent for you to draw up the contract and settlements ; 
and as they are to be somewhat peculiar, you must promise to exe- 
cute them as I dictate, or I shall withdraw my affairs from your 
hands, and employ some stranger, who will neither question my 
will nor my judgment. 

Fox. (l.) Bless your dear, obstinate heart, — it's nothing to me 
whom you marry ! Fashion the knot, as you please, of silk or hemp, 
you are at liberty to sign your own death-warrant, if you choose ! 
I'll officiate as executioner, with due decorum ! It's no act of mine ! 
Damnum absque injuria I Excuse the remark ! 

Al. Enough, sir ! We may be interrupted here. {Rings.] Pray 
attend me to the library. 

Enter Jacob, c. 

Jacob, take that box into the library. {Exit, e. 

Jac. Yes, mam ! Oh, Mr. Foxglove ! — Miss Tangle bade me tell 
you, she would be happy to see you before you go, as she has some- 
thing important to consult you about. Getting a little shaky, and 
wants to make her will, I think ! Hope she'll remember me when 
her hand's in ! [Aside.] [Exit, c. 

Fox. With the greatest of pleasure ! I thought I couldn't be 
deceived ! — Will, eh 1 — Testamentary, I hope. — Executors in de- 
mand — slice in reversion — very probable ! Ready for such kind of 
work. Toties Quoties ! [Exit, c. r. 

Re-enter Jacob, c. l. 

Jac. What a poor, miserable, badgered, and bewildered walking 
falsehood I am ! I ought to be ashamed of myself, — but how can 
I help itl There's a run on pages, in the fashionable world, and 
if I were to confess my real age, I'd be bowled out sudden ! I've 
stuck at eleven and a half for eleven years and more. It's jolly 
lucky that I don't grow ! The worst of it is, I'm head and ears in 
love with Perkins, and she aggravates me, by petting me for a child, 
while I love her like a man ! Oh ! it's dreadful ! I sometimes 
determine to burst through my buttons, and make a clean breast of 
it, but I'm afraid she'd ruin my prospects ! Here she comes ! I 
declare, looking like Flora, or Aurora, or some of those Heathen 
delicacies, that make a fellow's mouth water. Nor could I pour 
forth the hidden flames that agitated my bosom like a small Vesuvius ! 
but instead of that I must talk jam and candy, and play the tom- 
boy 

Enter Perkins, 1 e. l. h. 

[Jacob tries to tumble, stand on his head, fyc. 
Per. Well, if ever 1 saw such a great baby in all my life !* Be 
quiet, do, child ! Where's Miss Alice 1 



18 THE GAME OF LOVE. 

* 

Jac. She's gone into the library, with old Buzwig, and mustn't 
be disturbed. We can have a jolly romp ! — Give us a kiss, 
Perky ! 

Per. Indeed 1 shan't ! You're too forward entirely, for your 
age ! 

Jac. Boo hoc ! I'll cry if you don't kiss me ! 

Per. Well, there ! [Kisses him. 

Jac. Golly ! ain't that good ? 

Per. I never did see such a boy for kissing. 

Jac. Oh, Perkins ! divine, darling, beautiful, bewitching Per- 
kins ! If I dared to trust you, what a secret I would tell you ! 

Per. What's the child talking about? — A secret! Tell me, there's 
a dear boy ! — I'm as discreet as a politician ! 

Jac. Oh, Perkins ! — I don't care — I can't keep it concealed any 
longer ! — 1 love you ! Oh, you don't know how I love you ! 

Per. [Laughing heartily.'] I know you do, because I take care 
you get plenty of pie ! 

Jac. It ain't pie, Perkins ! Sweet Perkins ! Angelic Perkins ! 

— 410 ! 

Per. What a boy it is, to be sure ! 

Jac. Intoxicating Perkins, — that's it. Listen. Alas ! I'm not 
a boy ! 

Per. No ! Then, what, in the name of gracious, are you ? A 
girl? 

Jac. Short-sighted Perkins, no ! Hear me make the terrible 
acknowledgment : — I'm a 

Per. What? 

Jac. A man ! [Falls on his knees. 

Per. Ha, ha ! Why, I'll box your ears, you forward little crop ! 

Jac. Incredulous Perkins ! feel my beard, and be convinced. 
Believe the evidence of the steel, Perkins. I shave — don't betray 
me, or I'm a torn-out page ! 

Per. Get up, sir ; do. 

Jac. Never, — until you promise to be mine ! 

Enter Miss Tangle and Fox, c. n. 

ox. There's a raging epidemic ; all mad as Bedlamites. 

Miss T. (r. c.) Perkins, what kind of conduct is this? 

Per. (l.) I don't know, ma'am; it's the boy. 

Miss T. For shame ! leave the room. [Exit Perkins, l. 1 e.] 
Boy, go. [Exit Jacob, r. 1 E.] Ah, counsellor, did you receive my 
message ? 

Fox. [Assisting her to chair.] I did, most worthy client, and am 
here at your service. Allow me to assist you. [Places cushions, 6rc 

Miss T. Thank you ; you're very good. Ah, I feel my strength 
fading rapidly. As your time is doubtless exceedingly valuable, 
we shall come to the point at once. 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 19 

Fox. Amiable consideration ! I am all ears. 

3fiss T. Alas ! what a grievous burden are worldly possessions, 
counsellor! 

Fox. Onerous and most responsible. 

Miss T. I sincerely pity those to whom the heavy weight that I 
have long endured, will fall. 

Fox. Charitable demonstration ! 

Miss T. If it were not a bounden duty to make a clear disposi- 
tion of my property, believe me, I would not aid in fastening so 
much care upon my successors. 

Fox. A prudent and praiseworthy precaution. [Aside.] She 
talks ingots and money-chests. 

Miss T. These few remarks are intended, counsellor, to prepare 
you for, perhaps, an unusual departure from common usage. 

Fox. [Aside.} Oh, Lord ! she's one of the family. What the 
devil does she mean to do with her money 1 

Miss T. You have understood what I require 1 

Fox. To make. an abstract of your will and testament, as it ap- 
pears to me. 

Miss T. Precisely. Please to take your pen. 

Fox. I am ready, madame. [Goes to table, L. 

Miss T. What time can you give me 1 

Fox. Let me see — Chambers at two — about half an hour, 
madame. That will be sufficient, I presume 1 ? [Sits and ivritcs. 

Miss T. Well, then, you had better only make a memorandum 
of the items I mean to bequeath, and fill up the document, at your 
leisure. 

Fox. [Aside.~] Shade of Croesus ! what a prologue ! 

Miss T. My niece, having an ample property of her own, I shall 
remember by a small legacy only — say, ten thousand dollars. 

Fox. Small ! Good gracious ! what will the large ones be 1 

Miss T. Item, — to the Society 

Fox. Society ? Oh, Lord ! She's bitten ! — Society, ma'am % 

Miss T. To the Society for the Relief of Local Distress, one 
hundred dollars. 

Fox. Come, — that's not out of the way ! 

Miss T. Item, — to the Society for Ameliorating the Condition 
of the Hottentots, ten thousand dollars. 

Fox. Egad ! that is out of the way i [Aside.] Yes, madame ? 

Miss T. Item, — towards the establishment of a school in this im- 
mediate neighborhood, ten dollars, per annum. 

Fox. Right and honorable, madame ! A good example ! — Ten 
dollars, per annum. 

Miss T. Item, — for the establishment of a fund, to be applied to 
the conversion and civilization of the entire Japanese people, now 
in ignorance and idolatry, fifty thousand dollars. 

Fox. Ma'am ! — It's too much ! Excuse the remark! [Aside.] Oh, 



20 THE GAME OF LOVE. 

it's frightful to see so much money wasted in foolishness ! Fifty 
thousand dollars ! it gives me a pain in my chest ! [Aloud.] Go on, 
ma'am ! 

Miss T. I believe I won't trouble you much longer. 

Fox. [Aside,] I'm devilish glad to hear it ! I couldn't have stood 
the persecution ! 

Miss T. I will make an equal division of the rest. Say, if you 
please, to all the Home Charities, without distinction 

Fox. Of the city only, of course ? 

Miss T. One hundred dollars each. 

Fox. I congratulate the recipients ! 

Miss T. One or two items more, sir, if you please. To all the 
foreign missions, — to be equally distributed, — one hundred thousand 
dollars. 

Fox. [Rises.] What, ma'am ! It's criminal ! I wash my hands 
of it ! A hundred dollars for the real destitution that is within your 
eyesight, and a hundred thousand for the imaginary wants of the 
Lord knows who, the Lord knows where, and who would get it, 
the Lord knows when, after having been filtered through the stick- 
ing fingers of the Lord knows how many agents, clerks, collectors, 
commissioners, et hoc genus omne ! Flesh and blood couldn't stand 
such a reprehensible flinging away of precious property ! 

Miss T. Have I not a right to do as I please with my own ? 

Fox. Indubitably, madam ! — but amongst the rest of your en- 
dowments, you'll have to found an asylum for lunatic lawyers, if 
you proceed in this way ! 

Miss T. One more item, only, sir, and I have done. To my 
executor, Counsellor Foxglove, in token of my esteem for the dis- 
interested probity of his character, I give and bequeath the sum of 
five thousand dollars. 

Fox. Ma'am! — I can't take it, — it's contrary to all usage — all 
precedent. 

Miss T. [Risi7io.~\ Don't distress me, Mr. Foxglove! Be kind 
enough not to mention this to my niece ; I would rather she didn't 
know my weakness ! Don't oblige me to be more explicit ! Heigho ! 
[Rises.] Pray lead me to the door. 

[She gives him a look as she goes off, c. 

Fox. I'm petrified ! What a singular look she gave me ! Hang 
me, if I don't begin to believe that she is struck with my personal 
appearance. Hem ! — sensible woman ! She's as rich as a gold 
mine, that's evident enough. Ah ! I must brush up a little, take 
more pains in my toilet ! Dam' me ! I feel as light as a feather ! 
Who'd have thought it ! Why shouldn't she fall in love with me 1 
I have undervalued myself all my life ! I begin to discover that 
I'm a devilish elegant fellow ! [Hums and dances. 

Enter Alice, 2 e. r. 
Al. Counsellor ! — — 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 21 

Fox. Excuse the demonstration — a slight touch of the epidemic ! 
Enter Jacob, c. d. 

Jac. [Announces.'] Mr. Paul Weldon ! 

Fox. Paul Weldon ! Who is he ? 

Al. No one : — he is only my husband who is to be ! Have you 
the contract ready 1 

Fox. Yes, but I protest vehemently against it ! It's preposter- 
ous, insane, and unnatural ! 

Al. Enough, sir ! It is my will ! [ Crosses to l. 

Enter Paul, elegantly dressed, c. d. 

My solicitor, sir. [.They bow. 

Paul. [Aside.] The devil ! My late employer ! 

Fox. Sir, your servant ! I think I have had the pleasure of seeing 
you before 1 

Paul. We have mst. 

Al. Jacob, tell Miss Tangle that I would be glad to see her. 

Jac. Yes, mum ! Something curious going on ! [Aside. 

[Exit, c.d. 

Al. We shall require two witnesses, I presume ? 

Fox. Better have two. [Aside.] He's a fine-looking fellow, upon 
my soul ! It's a thousand pities that he should be thus sacrificed ! 
Hang me, if I don't give him a chance ! There is a slight omis - 
sion, I perceive, here, which I must correct. [ Crosses to table, l. 
h.] [To Alice.] Merely a formality, that's all. [Writing. 

Enter Miss Tangle, c. 

[Aside.] Auspicious moment ! — Glorious example, madame, if 
some people were not so averse to the arrangement. 

Miss T. What arrangement, sir 1 
• Fox. Simple matrimony, madame. 

Miss T. (l. c) My feelings have undergone a remarkable change, 
recently, sir. 

Fox. You don't say so 1 Singular coincidence ! so have mine ! 

Al. (r.) You will please to lose no time. 

Fox. (l.) Excuse the delinquency ! One moment, if you please, — 
just, for my own satisfaction. Do you know the absurd, — I mean 
the conditions of this contract, you are now called upon to sign 1 

[To Paul. 

Paul. (r. c.) Perfectly, sir ! 

Fox. But are you sure 1 shall I read them to youl 

Paul. It is unnecessary. Whatever they are, I am prepared to 
substantiate them. 

Fox. But you'll be no husband at all ; a mere shadow, a pretext, 
a nullity ! 

Paul. I am quite aware of it, sir. 



22 THE GAME OF LOVE. 

Fox. Then confound it ; sign your name ! You get no pity from 
me ! 

Paul. When I ask you for it, sir, it will be time enough for you 
to interfere. 

Fox. Now, sir, your signature. 

Al. [Aside.] Oh ! Heavens ! he can't write ! What a mortifica- 
tion ! [Paul smiles, and writes his name. 

Fox. A good, bold hand, at any rate ! — No nervousness about 
that ! — Now, madame 

Al. {Signs.] Now for the witnesses. [They sign.'] Everything 
in order, — it only remains to name the day for the interesting cere- 
mony to take place. When shall we say, Mr. Weldon 1 

Al. This day week. 

Fox. Nothing like dispatch ! — Ah ! if I could only induce a cer- 
tain charming, — eh, ma'am 1 It's contagious — the epidemic is 
spreading — propitious moment, — say yes ! 

Miss T. How can I do otherwise 1 

Fox. Extatic avowal ! 

Al. Miss Tangle, you will remain with me — no arrangement that 
I can make will interfere with 

Miss T. Ah ! she'll destroy all ! [Faints, 

CURTAIN 



ACT III. 

SCENE I. — Elegant Drawing-room in Mr. De Merfie's House. 
Mr. (r.) and Mrs. (c.) De Merfie, and Mr. Grace (l.) dis- 
ccvered. 

Mrs. De M. Nonsense, Mr. De Merfie ! Now, we're among the 
tip-tops, we must do as the tip-tops do. Don't you think Mr. Grace 
knows the proper way to get up a party — who to invite, and who 
to not — and him so knowledgable of everybody in the city 1 It 
won't be no use, unless we has a crowd ; — eh, Mr. Grace 1 

Grace. Indispensably necessary to make an elegant thing of it, 
madame. 

Mr. De M. But, I thought your invitations were all out Jong 
ago 1 

Mrs. De M, Haven't a lot of 'em come back] Here's one just 
come from the Fitznugginses, as if they had any right to be so par- 
ticular. Just listen to this : " Mrs. Fitznuggins presents her com- 
pliments to Mrs. De Merfie, and begs to return her cards for her 
ball-costume, as she doesn't remember when she had the pleasure 
of an introduction." As if that mattered a pin's point ; eh, Mr. 
Grace 1 

Grace. Not at all, madame ; vou both move in the same set. 



i 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 23 

Mrs. De M. To be sure ! Fashionable people, as we are now. 
always goes in sets, like china ; — eh, Mr. Grace 1 

Grace. Most assuredly, madarae ; and to keep vulgar earthen- 
ware from becoming intermingled amongst them, is my peculiar 
province. 

Mr. De M. Well, I confess I don't know much about it. 

Mrs. De M. Then, perhaps, you'll be good enough to leave it to 
them as do 1 How shall we manage to fill up the list, Mr. Grace 1 

Grace. Nothing is easier, my dear madame. Would you like to 
look over my list of availables 1 

Mrs. De M. Oh, if you warrant 'em — that's enough. 

Grace. Ladies, one can always get ; but my young men are the 
great difficulty. 

Mr. De M. And yet there doesn't seem to be a scarcity of them, 
Mr. Grace. The city swarms with consumptive-looking anatomies, 
with miraculous neck-ties and impracticable pantaloons, reduced to 
this fashionable standard of attenuation, so rumor has it. by the 
fatiguing exercise your despotic regulations exact. 

Grace. I confess, sir, that the ball-season is somewhat tasking 
upon slender extremities ; but the quiet of Lent, however, is a 
great invigorator. 

Mrs .De M. I must have my rooms chock-full, mind ! 

Mr. De M. Of course, my dear ; the more uncomfortable, the 
better. 

Mrs..DeM. Good gracious, LaAvrence ! who thinks of comfort 
at a ball \ Why, at Mrs. Hauton's soiree, they positively hadn't 
room to dance. There's neither fun nor fashion in the thing, if it 
ain't a squeedge ! 

Mr. De M. Yes, yes ; quantity, not quality, is the desideratum. 
I only wish to Heaven it was over ! 

Airs. De M. I wish to goodness you'd go out. [Rises. 

Mr. De M. Presently, my dear, when I have finished reading the 
paper. 

Mrs. De M. Well, then, be quiet and don't talk. — Mr. Grace, 
perhaps you had better take a lot of envelopes, and direct them 
yourself. 

Grace. Certainly, madame. May I inquire who are we to meet 
— you'll pardon me, but I mean, to what social stratum do you be- 
long, — whom do you visit 1 

Mrs. De M. Why, anybody that asks me, of course. 

Grace. May I request you to name one or two 1 

Mr. De M. There's the Fitznugginses. 

Grace. Very new people, but showy ; they'll do. 

Mr. De M. And the Weldons, — they're just married, you know 1 

Grace. Indeed ! Extreme bon ton ! Husband m}'thologic, but 
presentable. 

Mrs. De M. Then, there's the Foxgloves. 



24 THE GAME OF LOVE. 

Grace. Professional, but on this occasion, perhaps, admissible. 

Mrs. De M. He married Miss Devereaux's housekeeper. 

Grace. Indeed ! She was reported to be a wealthy party. That's 
awkward ! do you particularly wish to have them 1 

Mrs. De M. Why, certainly I do ! 

Grace. That's sufficient, madame, — we must wink, we have to 
do it sometimes. You needn't mention any more. I know to an 
armorial bearing, the material which must compose your Fete, a 
little mixed, but all the better for that. You see, by skillfully 
bringing two or three grades of society together, the hilarity of the 
occasion is considerably heightened by the little jokes and witti- 
cisms they make against each other. 

Mr. De M. [With paper. ] Oh! law! [Groaning. 

Mrs. De M. Lawrence ! 

Mr. De M. Something in the paper, dear I 

Mrs. De M. We must have a wonderful grand supper, I sup- 
pose 1 

Grace. It is an institution, my young men advocate strongly, 
madame. 

Mrs. De M. With plenty of bouquets, — it's nothing unless flow- 
ers is flush. 

Grace. Expensive, madame, but I regret to say, indispensable. 

Mr. De M. [Groaning.'] Oh! 

Mrs. De M. Lawrence ! 

Mr. De M. Another melancholy article ! Heavy failure down 
town. 

Mrs. De M. Never mind that, as long as there are none up 
town. 

Grace. No such expression heard of within the sphere of my 
usefulness, madame, — but there is one most essential point we have, 
as yet, lost sight of. 

Mrs. Dc M. What may that be, Mr. Grace 1 

Grace. Have you selected your lion ! 

Mrs. De M. Lion ! I don't exactly 

Grace. Some particular individual, to serve as an attraction, — 
a notoriety, no matter how obtained. There are many different 
species of the genus. There used to be a good run upon political 
exiles, when they were scarce, but the market is overstocked, and 
they are no longer sought after. A literary name, no matter how 
obscure, if foreign, would be a card, — our own, we never think of! 
Perhaps I had better hunt something up for you ? 

Mrs. Dc M. If you will take the trouble. 

Mr. De M. [Throicing down paper, and rising. ] I'm going, my 
dear ! If I stay any longer, I shall certainly be entirely too much 
enlightened respecting the minutiw of your entertainment, to derive 
any enjoyment from it. Good morning, Mr. Grace. 

Grace. Sir, your most obedient ! [Exit Mr. De Merfie, r. 1 e. 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 25 

Mrs. De M. What tiresome creatures husbands are, to be sure, 
Mr. Grace ! 

Grace. I have no doubt, madame, but they seldom come within 
the sphere of my usefulness. 

Enter Jacob Chubb, with cards, e. 1 e. 

Chubb. There's a gentleman and a lady 

Mrs. De M. How often have I told you not to speak, didn't I tell you 
when I took you off Mrs. Devereaux's hands, that you mustn't talk % 

Chubb. I know, mum, but 

Mrs. De M. Hold your tongue ! — Dear me, Mr. Grace, it's the 
Weldon's ! How provoking, just at this moment ! I declare, I'm 
not fit to be seen. There's a good soul, won't you step into the 
library, and finish the invitations 1 — Give me a book ! — Mind you 
don't stint 'em, Mr. Grace ! {Exit Grace, d. l. f.] Where's that 
book, you stupid? [Chubb nods.'] Why don't you speak "J 

Chubb. You told me not to, mum ! 

Mrs. De M. Why don't you do as I desire you ? 

Chubb. Cos there ain't no book, mum. 

Mrs. De M. The paper, then, quick ! [Chubb hands Iter paper.] 
Go, say I'm at home ! 

Chubb. Yes, mum ! Oh, I forgot ! [Exit Chubb, r. 1 e. 

Mrs. De M. What a time for people to come visiting ! I declare 
I'm so angry, I could 

Enter Alice and Paul, r. 1 e. 

Ah ! my beautiful, dear darling ! You don't know how delighted 
I am to see you ! Don't look at me, I'm all in my dishabille ! How 
lovely you are looking, to be sure ! What a duck of a dress ! You 
certainly have the greatest taste ! 

Paul. [ Who is laden with shawls, cf-c] Hem ! 

Mrs. De M. Oh, I beg a thousand pardons ! This is your hus- 
band, I presume 1 [Crosses to c. 

Al. Yes, that's my husband. 
- Mrs. De M. I must congratulate you ! [Alice turns away.'] And 
you, too. sir, I'm sure. 

Paul. Madame, you do me honor ! 

[Turns away, always watching Alice. 

Mrs. De M. Curious capers for a new-married couple, but I sup- 
pose it's the extreme high tone to appear indifferent, if so, they 
carry it out to miraculous perfection ! [Aside. 

AL My fan. [Paul gives it.] This is merely a visit of ceremony, 
Mrs. De Merfie. It is essential that I should present my husband 
to society, in order that I, or rather I should say we maybe flattered, 
blamed, or ridiculed, just as it may jump with the humor of our 
very dear friends. 

Mrs. De M. Oh, you are so amusing ! [Aside.] Haughty thing ! 



26 THE GAME OF LOVE. 

Enter Chubb, r. 1 e., with card on salver. 

Chubb, (l. 1 e.) There's another. 

Mrs. De M. Hem ! [Chubb presents card.'] What a singular 
coincidence ! " At home" certainly, show them in ! 
Chubb. There's only one ! 

Mrs. De M. That will do, Chubb ! show up 

Chubb. She's up a-ready ! — Beg pardon, mum, — forgot ! 

Enter Mrs. Counsellor Foxglove, r. 1 e. 

Mrs. Fox. Ah, good people ! Here I am, [Crosses to c] you see, 
back again, I and the counsellor ! Ah ! my dear Alice, this is an 
unexpected pleasure ! Is this yours 1 Fine-looking young man 
enough. Mine is at business, — professional man, you know, — 
exemplary creature ! How is yours, my dear Mrs. De Merfie 1 

Mrs. De M. Very well indeed, Mrs. Foxglove ! Chubb, chairs ! 

Chubb. The new un's, mum "? 

Mrs. De M. Silence ! leave the room 

Chubb. Yes, mum. [Exit Chubb, r. 1 e. 

Mrs. De- M. Pray sit down ! Mr. — a — do take a seat. 

Paul. Thank you, I would rather 

Al. Sit down. [Paul drops into chair. 

Al. On what evening do you give your ball, Mrs. De Merfie ? 
Dear me ! I have left my tablets in the carriage. 

Mrs. De M. My servant shall [Rising. 

Al. There's no occasion. [To Paul.'] Go and bring them to me. 
[Paul goes out, r. 1 e.] What evening did you say ] 

Mrs. De M. Wednesday. I hope and trust you will come, Mrs. 
Foxglove ] 

Mrs. Fox. It depends altogether, my dear, upon the counsellor. 
His time is so occupied, and I, myself, find so much to attend to in 
my new sphere of duty, the -fact is, I can do nothing, positively 
nothing, without the counsellor's consent. It is the province of a 
wife, to submit everything to her husband, I think. 

[Paul enters, r., with tablets, which he gives to Alice, then re- 
sumes his seat. 

Mrs. De M. Unquestionably ! 

Al. Don't you feel a little chilly here 1 

[Paul starts up, and arranges her shawl. 

Mrs. De M. What an attentive creature ! 

Mrs. Fox. Very ! I wish I could induce the counsellor to flit 
about in that way ! [Paul resumes his seat.] but, being a man of 
business — I believe yours is in business too, Mrs. De Merfie'? 

Mrs. De M. For the present. He's the first of his family that 
ever was. His noble connexions in the old country are outrageous 
with him, for lowering the dignity of the name ! 

Al. The De Merfies are of Gallic origin, I presume? 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 27 

Mrs. De 31. Oh, no, my dear ; French, pure French. So the 
heraldry man told me, when I went about our coat of arms for my 
Brougham. 

Al. It is not usual to have arms on a Brougham, I believe 1 

Mrs. De M. Mine has, and a crest over them. 

Mrs. Fox. What is your crest, Mrs. De Merfie 1 

Mrs. De 31. Oh ! the heraldry man was very obliging. He said, 
as they had forgotten to put my name in the book, I might take my 
choice, so I picked out the prettiest thing I could find. 

Al. [Rises, Paul also.} You'll excuse this terribly long call, Mrs. 
De Merfie. 

3Irs. De 31. Pray don't go yet ; sit down a little longer. [Alice 
sits — Paul sits.} Dear me, she is sitting ! Mr. Grace must be tired 
of his imprisonment. 

Mrs. Fox. I must go, my dear ; the counsellor will be home short- 
ly, [Crosses e.] and I have a family disclosure to make, which may 
possibly need some preparation. Good morning. 

Mrs. De M. Good morning, my dear. Be sure and call soon 
again. Chubb, door. [Exit Mrs. Foxglove, e. 1 e.] What a sud- 
den marriage that was of our dear friends ! [To Al. 

Al. [Rising — Paul also.} Very, and a singular one also. Both 
of them such railers against matrimony. [To Paul.] Carriage. 

[Paul exits n. 1 e. 

3Irs. De 31. What a dear, quiet, attentive creature your hus- 
band is ! One would suppose he was your servant, instead of your 
lord and master. 

Al. Lord and master ! He is my servant ! His mean, despica- 
ble, and cringing sex is fit for no higher occupation. [Re-enter 
Paul.] Your arm, sir. 

[Paul offers arm to her, bows formally, and they exit, e. 1 e. 
' Mrs. De M. Chubb, door. What, a grand sweep she has with 
her head, and with what contemptuous pride she treats that poor 
young man — but it's quite right. Oh ! how I wish I had spirit 
enough to treat Mr. De Merfie in the same way. " Your arm !" 
I think I'll try. Bless me ! I was forgetting poor, dear Grace. Mr. 
Grace, you may come out, there's no one here now. [Enter Geace, 
d. f. l.] Beg ten thousand pardons ! 

Grace. Not at all, madam. I have filled up the time, I trust, 
satisfactorily. Chubb, bring those invitations. 

[Chubb goes into library, d. p. l., returns with trayful of envelopes, 
$c. 

31rs. De M. Oh ! thank you, Mr. Grace. You have been indus- 
trious. Take those to the post-office directly, Chubb. 

Grace. x\nd pay for them, don't forget that. I have the honor 
to take my leave. [Exit i. e. r. 

Chubb. Oh, Perkins ! this cruel separation is a killing me by 
inches. I knew how it would be, when my extensive affection got 



28 THE GAME OF LOVE. 

too big for my continuations ; I was discharged — this here is a good 
place enough, but it ain't no place without Perkins. I s'pose I 
must take these to the post office, so I'll go get my hat at once. 

{Exit D. F. 
Enter Ted. 

Ted. Bad luck to me, if I'm not gettin' footsore as well as heart- 
sick, beatin' the streets in search of Larry. Where the divil could 
he have hid himself] I've axed ivery mortial soul I've met wid, 
and he can't be of much account here, for niver a one of them 
knows anything about him. I must say, however, that the folks 
trate me wid the greatest respict, and indeed there must be some- 
thing wonderfully classicle about me personal appearance, for a 
good many judges of human natur even went so far as to call me 
a Geeek, and a mighty fine complimint it is to the antiquity of my 
ancestors, for wasn't the Phenecians the first founders of Ireland, 
and they were real ould original Greeks, and more betoken, made 
a flourishing full-grown country of it, when the rest of them was 
out at nurse, and the half of them wasn't born or thought of. 

Re-enter Jacob. 

I ax pardon, sir, but maybe you might be acquainted wid one 
Murphy, &c, &c. 

Jac. Don't bother, Greek. 

Ted. Well, now, isn't that queer '] He sees it, too ! 

Jac. I say, Greek, did you come here after a place 1 

Ted. Under government, sir] 

Jac. No, you fool. 

Ted. I didn't know, sir. I was towld that promotion was quick 
here, if one only knew the right way to set about it, — and the best 
pair of crutches a fellow could use upon the road, was either to sell 
grog or politics. 

Jac. What the deuce do you know about politics 1 

Ted. Faith, not a great deal ; but they tell me that's no great 
disadvantao-e. and them that talks most about it knows the least ; 
an' as I know just nothing at all, I have as good a chance as any 
of them. Hurra ! Didn't Molly O'Donahoo, that tells fortunes by 
the cards, say, the other night, that if I was born under a lucky 
planet, I'd be a pleeceman in a month, and wud have nothing to do 
but wear an iligant uniform, wid a star like a Grand Duke, on me 
breast, 'scorting beautiful ladies across dirthy streets, and cracking 
whips at omnibus-horses ! 

Jac. What's that you're flourishing about in your hand 1 

Ted. Indeed, an' I can hardly tell ye. You see I was taught 
readin' an' writin' by word o' mouth. 

Jac. You mean, I suppose, that you can do neither, and you're 
ashamed to confess such benighted ignorance"? 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 29 

Ted. I wud be, sir, if it was any fault of mine. It was a hard 
school I went to, sir, — one that niver has a holiday, the school of 
necessity. Whin a fellow's hands gits used to howlding a pick, 
it's little use to try and stick a pen in it. You see, it was a gin- 
tleman that gave me this, as he was rowling' alonw in his carriage, 
and told me to take it to the direction, and may be I mightn't be 
sorry. I axed my way this far, and I'm thinking it must be near 
this. 

Jac. Let me see it. Why, it's for Lawyer Foxglove ! It was 
he as got me out of my place, and separated me from my Perkins. 
Hang me, if I don't pay him off for it ! 

Ted. What does it say, sir, av you plase 1 

Jac. Only a few words. " This is the man.' 

Ted. Meaning me, sirl Who knows but he may be able to tell 
me something about Larry 1 

Jac. I shouldn't be surprised ; most likely a recommendation for 
a place. Listen to me, furrener ! There's the house that Lawyer 
Foxglove lives in. I know him like" a book, and can give you a 
word of advice. 

Ted. Indeed 1 and may long life to you for taking so much 
trouble about a poor stranger. 

Jac. In the first place, he's very eccentric 

Ted. What may that be, sir 1 

Jac. Queer in his notions. You know this is a land of liberty, 
I suppose 1 

Ted. So I've heard, sir, but you see I don't exactly know what 
that manes. 

Jac. It means that you can take whatever liberty you like — one 
man's just as good as another. 

Ted. And a thrifle better, maybe 1 

Jac. Exactly. You understand me, I see. Now, if you talk 
low, and look sheepish, and carry your hat in your hand, they'll 
think you're an ignorant fool, but if you boldly claim your rights, 
cock your hat on your head, swagger and talk loud, and elbow 
people about, you'll soon get into notice. 

Ted. You don't tell me that, sir'? [Puts on his hat. 

Jac. To be sure ! Many a chap has been kicked into conse- 
quence by following that plan, who would otherwise have passed 
his life in mere quiet usefulness. 

Ted. Bedad it's meeself that likes the idea of that sort of thing 
mightily — it's easy and lazy, and that's the heart's blood of a gin- 
tleman's life, all the world over. 

Jac. You're exactly the kind of man the lawyer loves. Show 
him you're somebody, and he'll be the making of you. 

Ted. Leave me alone for that. 

Jac. He may talk angrily to you, just to try if you have the right 
stuifin you, but you must give it to him back, or you're a goner 



30 THE GAME OF LOVE. 

Ted. Maybe I won't, nabocklish. If he gives me any of his lip, 
I'll wallop him. 

Jac. I'm going there, too : let us go in. {Going. 

Ted. [Flings him round.] Where's your manners, you blaggard'l 
That's free an' asy, ain't it 1 

Jac. Oh, you Greek ! [Crics.~\ [Ted. kicks tray. 

CURTAIN. 



ACT IV. 

SCENE I. — Foxglove's Apartment. — Mrs. Foxglove discovered. 

Mrs. Fox. I am about to pass through an ordeal, from which 
there are few of my sex but would shrink, and yet, like a brave 
soldier before the conflict, my heart beats exultingly at the antici- 
pation ! 

Enter Foxglove and servant, l. 1 e. 

Fox. [Opening note.'] Ha! — the invitation to Mrs. De Merfie's 
Grand Ball I 

Serv. There's a very rude kind of a man, sir, below, who insists 
upon seeing you. 

Fox. He must wait. Tell him I am very busy, but will attend 
to him as quickly as I can. [Exit servant, l. 2 e.] Now, my dear, 
I have dismissed all sublunary thoughts for a while, shut out the 
law, and all its dry details, and am ready to listen to this secret 
matter, which you tell me you have to communicate. 

Mrs. Fox. You can't imagine what it is, I suppose, dearl 

Fox. Haven't an idea, darling ! — To alter and amend that foolish 
will, of course? [Aside. 

Mrs. Fox. My dear husband, I'm going to make a great trial of 
your disinterested affection ! 

Fox. Wife of my bosom, can you doubt it foi an instant 1 Open 
your case ! 

Mrs. Fox. What induced you to marry me so suddenly ? 

Fox. Hem ! — that's a pistol-shot kind of a question ! — [Aside.] 
What induced me 1 Why, multifarious considerations. 

Mrs. Fox. But the principal ones 1 

Fox. Urn ! Unison of sentiment, coincidence of opinion, the hap- 
py spiritual and intangible wedlock of thought and sympathy, the 
inexistent fusion of mental idiosyncrasy ! I hope that's transcen- 
dental enough. [Aside. 

Mrs. Fox. And what may all that amount to," when set down in 
the figures of common sense ? 

Fox. Hang me if I know to a fraction ! But, come, we haven't 
been married long enough to talk about common sense, yet. 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 31 

Mrs. Fox. Just long enough. Can you think of no other induce- 
ment you had to stimulate you to matrimony 1 

Fox. None that I can call to mind at this moment. 

Mrs. Fox. No worldly consideration, — urn ? 

Fox. What can you possibly mean 1 

Mrs. Fox. No mercenary motive 1 

Fox. Dear me ! how unpleasantly matter-of-fact she is ! How 
can you ask me such a question ? 

Mrs. Fox. Merely to elicit a reply : — I believe that is the pur- 
port of all questions. In a word, did you marry me for myself, or 
for my money % 

Fox. God bless me ! What a preposterous idea ! This is a re- 
gular domestic cross-examination ! What act, or word, or deed of 
mine, could induce you to harbor so unjust, so poor, so inimical a 
thought ? 

Mrs. Fox. That's a professional reply. I want a plain yes, or no ! 

Fox. Well, then, confound it, — no ! 

Mrs. Fox. I'm delighted to hear it, for it has removed a terrible 
load from my mind ! — I have none, dear ! 

Fox. No what, love ? 

Mrs. Fox. No money, darling ! 

Fox. Mercy on me, what an abominable swindle ! — Ma^am ! 
don't you know that your conduct is statuteable, obtaining money, 
I mean marriage, under false pretences 1 

Mrs. Fox. And what was yours 1 

Fox. Ah, that was a totally different thing ! I infringed no 
law ! 

Mrs. Fox. You did, — the law which should precede all law, the 
law of moral honesty, and honorable truth ! 

Fox. And that precious document, that you made my mouth 
water over for an hour, was all a flam 1 

Mrs. Fox. I can't deny it. 

Fox. What on earth induced you to imagine such a tantalizing 
piece of deception? 

Mrs. Fox. I was tired of my dependence, and wished to change 
it, — besides, strange as it may appear, I liked you, knew your weak 
point, assailed and carried it ! 

Fox. Don't imagine that I am going to submit tamely to this 
swindle ! Were it not for your relative, Mrs. Weldon 

Mrs Fox. She is no relative of mine, — I was simply her house- 
keeper. 

Fox. Oh, Lord ! Oh Lord ! You called yourself her aunt ! 

Mrs Fox. And you called yourself my lover ! — Come, be reason- 
able : — There's an equal amount of turpitude on both sides. We 
played for different stakes, and I have won. 

Fox. A devilish nice kind of game, I must say ! But I'll have a 
divorce! 



32 THE GAME OF LOVE. 

Mrs. Fox. I think not. 

Fox. Why 1 — pray ! 

Mrs. Fox. You're too fond of your money, and I can live here 
for less than the law will allow me, as separate maintenance. 

Fox. Upon my life you're a great woman ! I could almost for- 
give you, for your superb sang froid, — but I won't ! No, we must 
part ! 

Mrs. Fox. With ail my heart ! — I sha'n't care for the stories they 
will get up at the clubs, — I sha'n't notice the jeering and the fun, 
with which your dear friends will relate the particulars of the 
counsellor's marriage ! 

Fox. Confound 'em, so they will ! — I'm utterly, and unequivocally 
sold, past redemption ! [Aside. 

Mrs. Fox. I shall leave your house immediately. [Going. 

Fox. Stop a minute ! there's no occasion for such precipitancy. 
[Mrs. Fox. I thought not.] I've thrust my neck into the yoke, and 
egad, I must wear it, though it should gall me to the quick. I don't 
want the miserable, sneering world to talk. So, if you please, 
we'll be on the best possible terms, when there are overlookers, but 
the privilege is left us to cordially despise each other in private. 
One comfort is, we sha'n't be singular in that respect. Do you 
agree to that bargain 1 

Mrs. Fox. I do, and promise you your full share of home com- 
fort. 

Fox. Which I shall pay back with compound interest, be as- 
sured. [They make faces at each other as Paul enters, c] A little 
pardonable pleasantry, Mr. Weldon — not long married, you know. 

Paul. Pray excuse this unceremonious intrusion. Mr. Foxglove, 
can I venture to ask for a short interview 1 

Fox. Certainly, my dear sir. My sweet Phoebe. [Crosses to c. 

Mrs. Fox. Dear Corydon. 

Fox. The sunshine of our felicity must be eclipsed for a few mo- 
ments, by the intervention of busy circumstance. Au revoir. dar- 
ling ! [Leads her to door, and kisses her hand.] Swindler ! 

Mrs. Fox. Adieu — hypocrite ! [Exit, l. e. h. 

Fox. Ah ! who would be a bachelor, if he could know, as I now 
do, the blissful harmony of wedded existence! [Crosses to r. h. 

Paul, (l.) Why did you suffor one who wore the form of man, to 
bind his soul to such an abject slavery 1 — Despised by my fellow- 
men, I know I am, although they dare not show it openly, for I 
have that within me from which insolence reeoils. What am I to 
do! You, who have helped to rivet these fetters on my life and 
hopes, assist me now to rend them off. 

Fox. Don't be intemperate. Keep cool. You're not the worst 
used individual in the world ; other people's shoes pinch as well as 
yours. What would you have me do ! 

Paul. Anything to break this terrible monotony of degradation. 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 33 

I knew not, when I made this shameless bargain, that I was meant 
perpetually to feed the flame oi' her undying love, to be the daily 
sacrifice upon the altar of her insatiate passion. Openly, and with- 
out disguise, she weeps over each memento — nay, the very brooch 
which she wears, incloses a lock of his hair ! 

Fox. I have noticed the straw-colored memorial, but, dear me, 
look at the matter calmly. Pray, what did you suppose induced 
the lady to take so sudden and unaccountable a step ] Did you 
think she was fascinated by your irresistible attributes 1 

Paul. No, no. I could not, I dared not think. Blindly, and all 
regardless of consequence, I yielded reason up to the delirium of 
the moment. I had another motive, a holy one, that I imagined 
might redeem the meanness of my conduct. My father, while yet 
a young man, was left a widower. The memory of his lost wife, 
and the care of two dear children, remained to reconcile him to life, 
and to the world. My sister, a lovely girl, became his heart's idol. 
His means, already scant enough, would perish with him, and he 
hoped, with a father's pardonable pride, that her gentleness and 
extreme beauty would, one day, win for her a wealthy as well as a 
fond husband. Circumstances called him to some distance from 
the city. She accompanied him. During the journey, one of those 
occurrences (so frequent now as almost to be miscalled accidents) 
took place. My father was severely hurt. My sister maimed for 
life. His injuries, added to the shock of seeing his adored child, 
senseless and bleeding by his side, acting upon a frame already 
enfeebled, were beyond his strength, and — he bequeathed to me a 
sacred legacy — a helpless and crippled sister. By bis death-bed I 
vowed to devote my life to her support. Heaven knows how I 
have toiled and struggled to keep the oath : but fate and the hard 
world were against me, and I was all but desperate when chance 
threw me in your way, sent me also to the presence of Miss Deve- 
reaux. Then came the offer. My sister — my darling sister — my 
father's pride. The sun-ray of my good fortune would warm and 
solace her, even though its first piercing beams should burn the 
shame into my cheek, as with a brand. Now, sir, you know my 
motive. 

Fox. My dear young poetical friend, you take this matter a great 
deal too seriously. Do you know what I should do were I in your 
place 1 

Paul. What? 

Fox. Hang me, if I shouldn't travel without baggage, for awhile. 

Paul. I could not live away from her. 

Fox. What's that 1 

Paul. Despise or pity me for the avowal, I could not. I love 
her, sir. [Crosses ton. 

Fox. That's a pretty business. 

Paul. I know it is presumptuous, and madly vain, dog as I am, 

2* 



34 THE GAME OF LOVE. 

— beaten hound — to lift my eyes from earth up to the heaven of 
her face, and yet, if the heart, that gives me life, be not a throbbing 
lie, better than life I love her. Oh ! that it were my destiny to die 
in guarding her from some great peril, that with my last of breath 
I might say, " Thus it was I loved you, Alice !" 

Fox. Oh ! you're incurable, I'm afraid. A monomaniac, lunatic, 
to all intents and purposes. I don't know what to advise. It 
would be a pity to shave your head, but I suppose that's what it 
must come to in the end, and yet, any one to look at you, would 
judge that } t ou had a fair share of brains- There, don't be offended, 
perhaps I may have a private reason to be rather acidulated. To 
sum up, you love your despotic wife, and are afraid to tell her so. 
What you want is for her to love you, and make no secret of it. 

Paul. It is impossible ! 

Fox. I quite agree with you, so long as you offend her sight, or 
that of any high-spirited person, by remaining in contented servitude, 
paying for the privilege of gazing at her scornful eyes, (when they 
are not looking in your direction,) by the sacrifice of all manly 
dignity and self-esteem ! This plain-speaking breaks upon you like 
a shock of electricity ? — Well, lightning is very useful in clearing 
away fogs sometimes. The atmosphere about your heart is thick, 
and if I didn't firmly believe it was a good one, hang me, if I 
should take the trouble of thundering at it ! 

Paid. You have, indeed, sir, transferred the blush from my cheek 
into my very soul ! Am I then become so despicable a thing 1 — 
You are right, she must loathe me ! 

[Throws himself into chair, much moved. 

Fox Well, there's no knowing exactly ! Womankind is an in- 
scrutable institution. [Enter servant, l.] Well, what's the matter? 

Sere. That man says he can't wait any longer. 

Ted. [Entering.] There, don't make a long gosther of it, but get 
out ! [Exit servant, l.] The top of the morning to you, sir ! 

Fox. What the devil to you want, eh ? 

Ted. I want to buy somethin' ! 

Fox. What? 

Ted. I'd like to buy a small parcel of politeness, but I've come 
to the wrong shop. 

Fox. You impudent scoundrel ! 

Ted. It's easy seen you've got none to spare. 

Fox. You might take off your hat, when you come into a gentle- 
man's house ! 

Ted. I always do. 

Fox. Why, you confounded 

Ted. Well there ! [Takes off hat.] Anything for a quiet life ! 

Fox. Perhaps you'll condescend to tell me what brought you 
he re ? 

Ted. I wasn't brought at all, I kem ! 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 35 

Fox. Oh, you kem, did you 1 What for. pray 1 

Ted. I want to get some work, for to kape me, until I find Larry. 
You don't happen to know Larry Murphy ! There was a boy out- 
side that towid me you had a vacancy for a gintleman to wait on 
you, and more betoken, gev the house the heart's blood of a fine 
character, four regular meals, and permiscuous ating through the 
day, with a barrel of strong beer running all over the house, and 
as that just suits my book, I'd like to take the place for a beginning ! 

Fox. 1 dare say you would, you hungry-looking shark, you wolf- 
stomach, you walking appetite, you confounded ever-masticating 
swallow-all ! — leave the house ! 

Ted. Bad luck to yer house ! Who's going to touch itl 

Fox. Get out, I say ! 

Ted. Maybe you'd like to look at a few lines I got from a young 
gentleman to give you, by the way of a recommend 1 

Fox. Go to the devil, you and your recommend ! 

Ted. Maybe you'd take it there yerself, as you seem to be travel- 
ling the road ! [Throics down card, and exits, 2 e. L. 

Fox. What the deuce is the meaning of this 1 Weldon, this 
card is yours ! Is this the fellow for whom you asked me to write 
that letter of recommendation 1 

Paul. Yes, — he has a good, kind heart. Put him into some 
small business, but on condition that he never inquires the name of 
his benefactor. 

Fox. Hollo ! You come back ! [Enter Ted, l.] Come here ! 
Tell me the truth, who told you to call on me ? 

Ted. It was a boy : a sort of a puzzlin' kind of a chap. I 
couldn't be on my oath whether he was an ould-looking young boy, 
or a young-looking ould man. 

Fox. Did he tell you to behave in the insolent way you have 
done ? 

Ted. He towld me that nobody'd think me anybody, unless I 
showed 'em I was somebody. 

Fox. I thought so ! Give me your hand ! 

Ted. Indeed, and I will, sir, wid my heart in it, if it's in earnest 
you are ! 

Fox. Now listen to me, sir ! It is by implicitly putting faith in 
the lying statements of interested schemers, and blindly following 
the sound of any bell-wether cry. that your countrymen, impulsive, 
generous, devoted, and unselfish though they are, — run counter to 
the views of reasoning men, and, believe this, my friend, that until 
they begin to see, hear, and think, for themselves, so long will they 
remain dupes and tools, mere instruments in the hands of those 
who despise, while they use them, and (their turn served) laugh at 
the simplicity which was so easily cajoled ! 

Ted. Bedad, sir, you talk like a book ; and there's somethin' in 
it too, if I only had the sense to spell it out. 



3(J THE GAME OF LOVE. 

Fox. [Giving one of the ball invitations instead of letter he has 
written.] There, take that to the direction, and you'll probably heai 
something that won't be unpleasant 

Ted. Anything about Larry 1 

Fox. You'll see. 

Ted. Long life to you, sir, and a good wife to you, sir, wid lota 
of wealth, health, and prize-babbies all over the tiniment ! 

[Exit, l. 1 K. 

Paul. [Starting up.~] The die is cast, my friend. That fatal obli- 
gation which makes us strangers to the end, shuts off all hope. 
My sister ! were it not for thee 

Fox. I will see to her. 

Paul. That word has opened my prison-gate. I will give up the 
sordid hire which now clothes my free action in the livery of de- 
pendence. 

Fox. Don't be rash ; not that I disapprove of your design, — it 
does you credit, and I love you for it. I have a whim : — leave me 
some memento, — a lock of hair, for instance, — you mustn't refuse 
me, 1 will have it. [ Takes scissors, and cuts off lock. 

Enter Servant. 

Serv. Mrs. Weldon would like to have an interview with you, 
sir, if perfectly convenient. 

Fox. Your wife ! 

Paul. Wife! [Bitterly. 

Fox. I beg pardon. [To servant. ] Show the lady up. 

[Exit servant, l. 1 e. 

Paul. I cannot see her now ;. my emotion, mastered usually, 
is now too apparent. Where can I retire to until she is gone ? 

Fox. No place but my cabinet.' I can't put you out of ear-shot, 
but you have a right to hear all that passes. 

Paul. A listener, I detest ! 

Fox. The adage is unfavorable, but there's no alternative. In ! 

[Puts him in closet, e. 1 e. 

Enter Alice, l. 1 e. 

Madame, your most obedient. 

Al. I wish to see you on business, Mr. Foxglove. I hope I don't 
interrupt you ? 

Fox. Not at all ; pray proceed. 

Al. I want you to pay Mr. Weldon one year of the allowance I 
have made him I understand that he has a near relative, in poverty 
and sickness, and would relieve her. Here is a check ; perhaps it 
will be more delicate should it come through your hands, than 
through mine. 

Fox. I applaud your consideration, madame, but, unfortunately, 
it is not needed. He won't take a penny of it. 

4 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 37 

Al. But it is my pleasure that he should, He must, — I insist 
upon it. 

Fox. I am sorry, madame, but he told me so himself 

Al. Insolent ! He dare not refuse ! 

Fox. Oh, yes, he dare. I advised him to it. 

Al, You, sir ! 

Fox. I, madame. 

Al. For what reason, sirl 

Fox. Because 1 find that he is in possession of an exceedingly rare 
article, in the way of personal property, which I would fain preserve. 

Al. What may that be 1 

Fox. A heart, madame. 

Al. Indeed ! sir, I congratulate you on the discovery, but, pray, 
of what possible interest can the knowledge be to me 1 

Fox. None whatever, thanks to your own mad folly ! Were it 
the noblest that ever beat within the breast of man, you've placed 
it out of your reach, but, mark my words, you'll wish your arms 
were long enough, by-and-bye. 

Al. Never ! 

Fox. We shall see. I met your old lover to-day, looking as hap- 
py and rosy as a May morning. 

Al. [ Walking about angrily.'] Why, sir ! — Oh, why do you lacer- 
ate my soul, by such an observation ? 

Fox. Lacerate, pooh ! You can't be under the singular delusion 
that this undignified exhibition of temper has an atom of love in it 1 
Not a bit. You are simply suffering extreme annoyance from the 
fact that you expected to harrow up his soul by your self-inflicted 
distress, but he, like a sensible fellow as he is, laughs and gets fat, 
under the dispensation, while you, excuse the homely metaphor, have 
cut your own nose off, to the serious detriment of the rest of your 
countenance. 

Al. You are a most unsentimental barbarian, thus to vulgarize 
the finest feelings of the soul into mere common-place. 

Fox. I like to rub the flimsy plating off", and expose the hard iron 
beneath. 

Al. With me your efforts are all fruitless for my love is inde- 
structible. 

Fox. I see that clearly, but I never thought your pride would 
have been sacrificed to -keep it alive. 

Al. What do you mean '( 

Fox. I mean that no captive that ever graced the conqueror's 
car, exhibited a more pitiable spectacle to a gazing world than you 
do, with that evidence of your humiliation in your bosom. For my 
part, I thought you had sufficient fire, even in the ashes of youi 
heart, to singe the ostentatious shame into a crisp. Why there's 
hardly a school-going miss who doesn't shrug her shoulders at your 
lack of spirit ! 



38 THE GAME OF LOVE. 

Al. Do they 1 — I'll never wear it again ! 

[Throws locket on table, l. h. 

Fox. Right ! Egad, I begin to have some hope for you. 

Al. None, none ! No — desolate, and still lonely, I shall pursue 
my gloomy way, lighted only by the torch of pride, your words 
have re-illumined. 

Fox. Ri turn ti turn ti turn ti ! That must be something from 
Bulwer. Ah ! if you had a real husband now. 

[Enter Paul from closet, r. 1 E. 

Paul. I can no longer descend to be an eaves-dropper. 

Fox. [Aside.'] Bravo ! most honorable idiot, you've done it now. 
I wash my hands of the whole affair. 

Al. You here, sir ! Was this a preconcerted scene ? If so, you 
have wasted your ingenuity to little purpose. 

Fox. Ah ! the pride is blazing up with a vengeance. 

Paul. One moment, madam — I will detain you but an instant. 
Pardon me, but I find I have over-estimated the strength of my 
endurance ; I can no longer live this life — I can no longer subsist 
on your bounty — it may be the last time you shall ever hear the 
sound of my voice. In parting, as in death, the truth may be ut- 
tered without a question. And should you ever deign to cast a 
thought upon so poor a wretch as I, think then of one, whom a 
pure, holy, and unselfish love has suddenly ennobled, silent and 
hopeless though that love must be — nor would I dare to unburden 
thus my soul, and make confession of its great presumption, but 
that a moment more removes me from your sight forever. Fare- 
well, my good, kind, generous friend. And you, madam, may pro- 
pitious heaven encompass your footsteps with that joy and happi- 
ness, that I shall never see again on earth. Farewell ! farewell ! 

[Exit. 

Al. He must not go ! 

Fox. He's gone ! Like a wayward child, you've played with 
your toy until you broke it. 

Al. I did not deem him capable of so much feeling. 

Fox. Of course not. We never know the value of anything 
until we lose it : however, there are plenty of poodles and parrots 
to be had cheap. 

Al. Pshaw ! you have no soul. 

Fox. [Goes to table l., and brings down locket.] Not a bit. [.A 
•pause.] You're right, he is a noble fellow. 

Al. How do you know I thought so 1 

Fox. (l.) I'm pretty w r ell studied in looks, my dear. Lord, how 
much better his fine raven hair would show here than this tawny 
worsted ! I have a lock of it. 

Al. (r.) Have yoal [Takes it.] Not that I want it. 

[Places it in her bosom. 

Fox. I'm very glad he's gone, for my part. 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 39 

Al. And so am I. 

Fox. I see you are. You must forget him. 

Al. I will. [Exit Alice, l. 2 e. 

Fox. Will you? not if I'm any judge of female nature. Hey? 
What's this 1 The note of introduction which I thought I gave to 
that Irishman. What could he have got instead ? As I live, my 
invitation to the ball to-night. No matter, I should not have gone, 
and he'll be sure to turn up again. 

[Sits down to write, l. h., closed in. 

SCENE II. — Antechamber in De Merfi.e's house. — Guests arriving. 
Music, as scene changes. — Music very -piano. — Mr. Grace 
announced. 

Enter Grace, r. 

Grace. Mr., Mrs. and Miss Bronderburgh. [They pass, r.] 
Colonel Slim ! [Slim goes in.} Major Bluster, and Captain Doo- 
little. 

Ted. [Outside.'] Is it that gentleman at the door, where all the 
quality is goin' in ? [Enter Ted, l. 1 E.] Av you plase, sir, is this 
corrict 1 

Grace. [Laughing.] Certainly, sir. Very well disguised indeed ! 
Permit me to remark that you'll be one of the most original charac- 
ters in the saloon. 

Ted. Maybe 1 will, sir. The gentleman tould me that I'd hear 
something that 'ud plase me. If it's you that's to tell it, out with 
it at once ! Is it about Larry, sir ? 

Grace. I have no doubt, sir, but they'll inform you in the ball- 
room. Pray, walk in. 

Ted. What ! Is it in there 1 Oh, murther ! Sure, I'd never 
have the face to go in amongst all them people. 

Grace. Very good indeed, sir ! Very well conceived, and I may 
say executed. Name, sir, if you please 1 

Ted. Ted Murphy. 

Grace. Yes, I know, — but your own name 1 

Ted. Why, who the divil else's name do you think I have 1 

Grace. I see you are determined to carry it through. Shall I 
announce .you by that name 1 

Ted. Indeed you may do as you like. 

Grace. [Opens door.'] Mr. Ted Murphy ! 

Ted. If I thought I could hear anything about that Larry ! 

Grace. I have no doubt of it, sir ! Ha, ha ! 

Ted. Here goes then wid a blessin' ! [Exit through door. 

Grace. Some eccentric friend of the family, I suppose. [Exit, r 

SCENE III. — The fancy ball. — Louis Quatorze Quadrille, fiyiish- 
ing. — Colonel Slim, Doolittle, Ted Murphy, Mrs. De Mer 
fie, Mr. De Merfie, and several ladies and ge?its discovered. 

Mrs. De M. This is really delightful and rechurchy. It puts me 



""\ 



40 THE GAME OF LOVE. 

in mind of my young days, at Dublin Castle,, when I was surrounded 
by my noble relatives. 

Mr. Be M. Nelly, take care ! 

Mrs. Be M. Oh ! don't bother ! Nobody knows us here ! Won't 
you take some refreshment, ladies ? Now, John, don't be lazy. 

[ Crosses. 

Ted. Well, of all the crazy-looking geniuses that I ever saw, 
these beats them ! but it's the custom of the country, I suppose. 

Slim.. [ Aside to Doolittle.] That's a singular character, for an 
elegant party. Do you know who he is 1 

Boo. Can't recognize him through the disguise. Very good, 
though ! Quite a picture ! [To Ted.] Well, Paddy, how are you ? 
Glad to see you. 

Ted. The same to you, sir. 

Slim. Ha ! ha ! When did you come over, Paddy ? 

Ted. My name's not Paddy, sur ! 

Boo. Not Paddy, eh? What may it be then? 

Ted. Ted, sur, if you plase ! — Ted Murphy, at your sarvice ! I 
kem over in the &c., &c. You didn't happen to know one Larry 
Murphy, sur, from the Parish of Dunduckedy, near Mud Island, a 
son of ould Murphy, the reaping-hook maker, &c, &c. 

Slim. Haven't had the honor of his acquaintance, [Enter servant 
with refreshment.} sir. Here's the servant. Won't you join us, 
Mr. Ted Murphy 1 

Ted. Wid all the veins of my heart, sir ! 

Slim. What will you have ? 

Ted. Whatever's goin', sir, I'm not particular. [Brinks.] Bedad, 
that's pleasin' ! I don't mind if I repate the dose. What may be 
the name of this, sir ? 

Slim. You'd rather have whiskey, I suppose ? 

Ted. Indeed, and it wouldn't break my neck to crack a bottle of 
the same. 

Slim. It would be supporting the character very naturally to 
punish a little of it. 

Ted. A little of it ! Well, I don't know that — only give me the 
chance. 

Boo. A pleasant fellow ! Come, let us explore among the drink- 
ables. 

Ted. I'm wid you ! Hurroo ! This is the sort of house I've 
been lookin' for ever since I kern home from nursing ! 

[They go up, and all regard Ted. — Business with waiter. 

Mrs. Be M. Dear me ! I wonder who that can be ? I have a 
faint recollection of his countenance ! Lawrence, love, do you 
know that gentleman's name, who is so capitally disguised? Very 
impertinent to visit us in that dress ! if he should know ! — Who is 
he? 

Mr. Be M. I didn't see his face. Indeed, I am positively 



THE GAME OP LOVE. 41 

ashamed to look around me, for fear of seeing the ridicule which 
my foolish appearance must excite ! I wish to heaven it was all over. 

Mrs. Dc M. Now don't be absurd ! I'm sure everything is quite 
commy-fo, and tout-afay couler de rose. Here are some people — 
talk elegant, will you 1 

Mr. De M. Pooh ! I'm disgusted with myself. 

Mrs. De M. [To one of the ladies.} Magnific, indeed! Oh, my 
love, mon marry, and soi mem, were just praising up your 
charming appearance. You look exactly like a dam de cour, I 
protest. 

Mr. De M. [Aside to her.} Don't swear, Nelly ! 

Mrs. Dc M. Was it our old friend, the Countess of what's 

her name, you said she put you in mind of 1 

Mr. De M. Have a care ! 

Mrs. De M. Taisey vous, if you please, and don't bother ! 

[Mr. De M. goes up — Ted, at back, sings. — All laugh. — He 
comes forward with bottle. 

Mrs. De M. What an amusing creature. [Aside.] Rude brute ! 

Ted. If yer not the heart's blood of the decentest lot of lunatics 
I ever met wid in all my travels, you may shoot me wid a pistol 
the shape of this, and likewise loaded wid the same illigant charge ! 

Mrs. Dc M. Ha ! Ha ! Witty creature ! [All laugh.] I wonder 
who he is "? 

Ted. I heerd ye, ma'am ! I'll tell ye who I am, in a jiffey ! My 
name's Teddy Murphy 

Mrs. De M. What !— The impudent fellow! 

Ted. Who knows, ma'am, but ye, or some of yez, might be able 
to put me on my thrack in the regard of them, that I'm looking for ! 
Did any of yes ever hear of one Larry Murphy, &c, &c, from 
Wax ford 1 [Mrs. De M. screams. Mr. De M. comes down. 

Mr. De M. What's the matter 1 

Mrs. De M. Nothing, love, — I ■ 

Ted. I merely axed the lady if — [she screams] — she ever heard 
tell of — {she screams] — one Larry Murphy. [She screams. 

Mr. De M. [Looks anxiously round.] Ted ! 

Ted. Larry ! * [ They embrace. 

Mr. De M. Ted, there's your sister-in-law. 

Ted. Come to my arms ! [Embraces her, 

GENERAL TABLEAU. 

ACT V. 

SCENE I. — Foxglove's Drawing Room — Mrs. Foxglove dis- 
covered sewing, r. c. — Enter Foxglove with papers, W. 2. — She 
takes work, bows, and exits. 

Fox. (Paces stage). This state of matrimonial infelicity — this 
wedded unblessedness is intolerable ! Confound the woman ' 



4*2 THE GAME OF LOVE. 

She has grown upon me in spite of her delinquency. So quiet, so 
submissive, so considerate, and so very useful, but. Oh ! the 
double burglary by which she broke into my house and heart to- 
gether ! Can I compound such a moral felony 1 It would be 
most injudicial. Hang the women ! I mean Heaven bless them ! 
What a pleasant perplexity they are to us male nonentities ! One 
comfort is, I'm not the only individual who has been bothered 
and befooled by a woman. I must see her, and settle it one way or 
another ! [Rings and walks about. Enter Servant, r.] Tell Mrs. 
Foxglove, I wish to see her, if she is disengaged. [Exit Servant.'} 
What the deuce am I to say to her 1 If she'd only do something 
to make me hate her, what a service she would render me 1 Ah, 
here she comes ! [Enter Mrs. Foxglove, r. i. e., followed by ser- 
vant, who crosses behind and exits l. h.] Mrs. Foxglove, your most 
obedient. 

Mrs. Fox. Mr. Foxglove, your servant. 

Fox. No, you're not ;. though I'm well aware that you make 
yourself one. 

Mrs. Fox. It is my duty. 

Fox. Yes, I know! Sit down. [They sit.] Hem! I suppose 
you are aware that we cannot lead this negative kind of existence 
forever 1 

3frs. Fox. I don't complain of it. 

Fox. But I do ! I presume that you have the grace to be 
ashamed of the abominable ruse by which you established yourself 
here! 

Mrs. Fox. Not in the least, nor should you harshly condemn that 
which, after all, must only be flattering to your self-esteem. 

Fox. Well, upon my life, that's cool ! How so, pray 1 

Mrs. Fox. The value of an object is in the same ratio to the 
means employed to attain it, is it not 1 

Fox. Granted. 

Mrs. Fox. Surely you wouldn't have me say more! 

Fox. You're very delicate all of a sudden ! Come, I'll ask you 
one question. Did you feel any regard for me before the — attack 1 

Mrs. Fox. None whatever. Did you 1 

Fox. Not a morsel ! Frank on both sides. You could have 
calculated on nothing but discontent from such an alliance 1 

Mrs. Fox. Not at all. The bitterest of foes may sometimes 
make the sweetest of friends. It is with individuals as with nations. 
Who that remembered Waterloo, could ever have dreamt of Inker- 
mann 1 

Fox. You intend then to maintain your position 1 

Mrs. Fox. If I'm not dislodged. 

Fox. Bayonets wouldn't dislodge you ! [Crosses r. 

Mrs. Fox. You compliment me. 

Fox. I should like to know what would ! 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 43 

Mrs. Fox. Really 1 

Fox. Positively ! 

Mrs. Fox. Nothing ! 

Fox. Phew ! I've run my head into a pretty yoke ! 

Mrs. Fox. There are txoo heads in it, be good enough to recol- 
lect, and however galling it may be to either party, the most conve- 
nient mode of proceeding on the road of life, will be to pull together. 

Fox. Egad ! that's true enough ; and if a man is to be humbug- 
ged, why it might as well be done comfortably. I'm half inclined 
to look over your misdemeanor, if it be only from sheer indolence. 
So as we are to travel together, let it be. 

Mrs. Fox. In friendliness, nothing more. 

Fox. Zounds ! But I say you shall, if T choose ! I don't mean 
that! Your many good qualities have entirely obliterated that one 
questionable act ! By Jove ! I'm in earnest. We are past the 
season for romance, perhaps, but for a good, old-fashioned fire-side 
affection, there is yet time. 

Mrs. Fox. Pardon me, sir, but that can never be ! There can be 
no affection without respect, and after my conduct 

Fox. Confound it ! Wasn't I the worst of the two 1 Didn't 
those deuced legacies captivate my mercenary soul 1 I was the 
miserable, mean pettifogging scoundrel ! Come, let us forgive 
each other, and forget the past. 

Mrs. Fox. I would if I could, but 

Fox. Zounds ! do you want to bring me to my knees like Sir 
Charles Grandison 1 

Mrs. Fox. I could not, dare not expect such a humiliation ! 

Fox. Because if you do — there — [kneels]. Now are you satis- 
fied? 

Enter Grace, l. e. Mrs. Fox retires with dignity, r. 1. e. 

Help me up, Grace ! This is a pretty position for a man to be found 
in, after six months' marriage ! 

Grace. I saw nothing — never see anything — we never do. 

Fox. I'm glad of it, there's no necessity for explanation ; more- 
over, I'm glad you've come. How goes on my scheme about the 
Weldons 1 The dearest wish of my heart is to see those two fine 
young people together. That she loves him, I am pretty well 
assured — if we could only break down that terrible barrier of pride. 
Have you gained him access to all those parties 1 

Grace. Certainly, it was but to speak. Here are half-a-dozen 
more invitations to the most recherche reunions in town. 

Fox. How does he conduct himself? 

Grace. Admirably ! He was at Mrs. Hautton's last night, the 
observed of all observers, as the immortal somebody observes. By- 
the-bye, Mrs. W. was there also. 

Fox. Did they speak '! 



44 THE GAME OF LOVE. 

Grace. Not a word, though they were in the same cotillon to- 
gether ; but that's not unusual, you know, although, as the general 
report is that they are finally separated, there's no reason why they 
should not. 

Fox. Leave those notes here — he lives with me now — I'll give 
them to him. Tell me, Grace, did he appear to be attentive to any 
particular \&&\ T 1 

Grace. Not remarkably so, as I observed. To be sure, he danced 
twice with Miss Meredith. 

Fox. Did he 1 Is she pretty 1 

Grace. Beautiful ! 

Fox. Describe her. 

Grace. She has 10,000 a-year. 

Fox. That's enough— I'm satisfied ! 

Grace. But Mrs. Weldon has made the greatest conquest ! 
Young Bradish, the wealthy and elegant Southerner, is irretrieva- 
bly stricken. Indeed, one of my reasons for seeing you, was to find 
out for him if a divorce were practicable. 

Fox. Urn ! Nothing more easy. By the way, how does that 
Irishman get on, I sent a note to you about 1 

Grace. I don't remember having received any such note ! 

Fox. Some time back. Egad ! now I remember ! I gave the 
fellow an invitation card to Mrs. De Merfie's Fancy Ball instead. 
So it is that some folk miss their good fortune. 

Grace. So it is that other folk hit it. I saw him at the ball. 
Haven't you heard the particulars 1 Bless you, it made a great 
sensation in our set ! Mr. De Merfie turns out to be the brother 
Larry that he was so continually inquiring about, to the terrible 
annoyance of his lady wife, whose aristocratical relations in Ireland 
were unceremoniously reduced to blacksmiths and plough-drivers. 

Fox. What have they done with him, for gracious sake 1 

Grace. The first annoyance of the exposure over, Mrs. De Merfie 
insisted upon decorating him in the highest style of fashion, and 
not exactly liking the fiery color of his hair, she positively insisted 
upon his wearing a curly black wig, very much to his perplexity, 
I'm told ; but he is somewhat impracticable, and as you may imagine 
gets into all kinds of difficulties in our quarter. 

[Enter Servant with card on salver, l. 1. e.] 

Fox. [Crosses c] Singular coincidence ! Talk of, &c , [reads'] 
" T. Murphy, Esq." Show him in, by all means ! 

Servant ushers in Ted, and Mrs. De Merfie, l. 1. e., hows and exits. 

Mrs. De M. My dear Mr. Foxglove, I'm delighted to see you 
looking so chaimingly ! Grace, you know my dear wild brother — 
you [To Fox.] do not. Allow me to have the pleasure — I hadn't 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 45 

the opportunity before. My brother-in-law, Counsellor Foxglove. 
[Aside to Ted. J Bow, you Hottentot, will you 1 

Ted takes off hat — his wig comes off with it, and he places hat on 
the table with wig in it. 

Ted. To be sure ! Hollo ! Why, if it isn't my ould friend that 
gev me the ticket when — 

Mrs. De M. [Aside to Ted.] Hold your tongue ! 

Ted. It's meself that's proud of shaking your illigant fist, for it's 
the hoyth of good fortune that it brought me ! Mother o' Moses ! 
there's the chap that passed me into your grand party the night I — 

Mrs. Be M. [Aside to him.] Do be quiet, you dreadful creature ! 
[Aloud.] And how is my delightful friend, Mrs. Counsellor Foxglove 1 
I haven't had the pleasure of seeing her for this many a day. Quite 
a pleasant duty this of mine, to chaperone an inexperienced crea- 
ture, fresh from the bosom of his family. So great a favorite with 
his distinguished relatives at home, that they allowed him to grow 
up in his beautiful native wildness, the darling ! 

Ted. Arrah ! Howld yer whist ! Shure, don't these know all 
about Larry 1 Didn't I ax them, before I had the luck to 

Mrs. De M. What have you done with your head 

Ted. Oh, murther ! is the thing off? It's gone down me back. 

[Looks about for it. 

Mrs. De M. Hold your tongue ! You knew, then — ha ! ha ! 
Curious incident ! Quite romantic ! You remember how admira- 
bly he was disguised at our ball — done on purpose to give us all a 
surprise ! 

Ted. It's no use ! the ould gentleman saw me in me breeches ! 

Mrs. De M. He will insist upon carrying on the innocent joke. 

Enter Paul, l. 1. e. 

Paul. Pardon me, sir. I didn't know you had visitors. 

Fox. Stay, Paul, we are all friends. 

Mrs. De M. To be sure, Mr. Weidon. I'm delighted to see you 
looking so charmingly. My brother-in-law, Mr. Weidon. 

Ted. Hallo, sir, is it there ye are 1 The earliest and the best 
friend I met ! It's proud that I am to see you this day ! Sure an 
I've found Larry — indeed an I have, an it's lashins of money that 
he has, and pockets full I've got too, and empty them all ye may 
as bare as a beggar-man's wallet, if ye like ! Here, won't you take 
a fist full? 

Paul. Thank you, my good friend — I am not in want of any. 

Mrs. De M. Do for gracious sake behave yourself ! You'll be 
the death of me, you intractable savage ! 

Ted. Well, I can't help it, if you will dress me up like a tailor's 
block, putting these things on me. Be my soul, they're so tight 
on me, body and breeches, that bad luck to me if I ain't afraid to 



46 THE GAME OF LOVE. 

let out my muscles. I touldyou I'd rather have an acre of ground 
and a pig. 

Mrs. De M. Oh ! What plebeian * ideas ! Excuse him, pray ! 
Come home with me, do — you're worse than ever. Good morn- 
ing to you all. We have a multitude of places to call at. [Aside 
to Ted.], Now leave the place like a gentleman. 

Ted. I dunno how — I'll lave it like a man, may be that'll do as 
well. God bless you, sir, .for puttin' me on the road to good luck, 
and you too, and you, with the best drop in my heart, for it's kind 
you were to the poor devil that 

Mrs. De M. There, that will do ! Your arm. Where are the 
gloves that I told you to get 1 

Ted. Stop a bit till I get me hat. [Takes hat from table, l.] Oh ! 
here's the thing ! [Takes wig from hat, puts it on, and exits l. with 
Mrs. De M.] 

[Business, and exit l. 1 e.] 

Grace. Mr. Weldon, I have much pleasure in being the bearer of 
a few select invitations. 

Paul. Indeed, sir, has the discriminating world found out my 
worth — in dollars'? 

Grace. Excuse me sir, not at all. Our world hopes to acknowl- 
edge your availability. 

Paul. Infinitely obliged to it, sir, but the sentiment is not mutual. 
Pray, pardon me, you are very good. 

Grace. [Crosses.'] Not at all ; proud to be of service, especially to 
one who is so distinguished an ornament to our immediate set. 
Good day, sir. [Crosses.} Good day, Mr. Foxglove. [Exit, l. 1 e. 

Pox. (r.) What's the matter, Paul 1 

Paul, (i,.) What \ Can you ask me such a question — you who 
know that every moment of my miserable life is a reproach 1 The 
sense of obligation that I see no hope of returning, weighs upon 
my soul like an ever-present terror. 

Fox. What obligation, and to whom, Paul ? 

Paul. To you, sir. 

Fox. None, man ! My proceedings are strictly professional, my 
young friend. A profitable speculation, that's all. 

Paul. How can I do otherwise than blush, when I meet your 
glance ] Am I not a living deception ? The money which I carry, 
nay, the very clothes which I wear, are not my own. 

Fox. Pooh ! I discounted your notes in the way of business, and 
shall exact a brave commission for the accommodation, don't you 
fear that. And as for your clothes, a fashionable tailor would be 
insulted if you paid him under a couple of years. You'll find a 
sufficient margin in the charge, when your bill comes in. 

Paul. Ah, sir, you cannot hide your benevolence from me, 
behind so worldly a mask. 

Fox. I'm glad you think so well of me, it assists my game. In 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 47 

playing yours, my friend, I play my own, and that v/e both shall 
win, I'll stake my life,, but you must not interfere with my modus 
operandi. 

Paul. Remember, sir, though you have so signally befriended 
me, I will have no act or part in this game, as you call it. I 
would rather die a thousand deaths, than condescend to win posi- 
tion, even love, by trickery. 

Fox. Since you will be so obstinately disinterested, I may as well 
give you a little unpalatable intelligence. Your lady-wife is half- 
inclined to marry again. 

Paul. To marry again ! Ah ! sir, this is cruelly sudden. 

Fox. But perfectly reasonable. You can hardly be so selfish as 
to thwart her wish. 

Paul. Not for an instant. If her freedom depends upon my con- 
sent, she has it. 

Fox. That's all very fine, but will you sign a paper to that effect 1 
[Paul crosses to r.] The veil of dissimulation then is dropped. I 
now see that for some designing purpose of your own, you have 
snared me to my utter ruin. 

Fox. I thought your eyes would be opened at last. But that has 
nothing to do with the signing. 

Paul. Indignation and contempt restrain my tongue ! 

Fox. But they needn't paralyze your fingers. [Paul signs.} I'm 
very much obliged to you — ah ! that's her carriage. She comes 
for the blessed paper which restores her to her liberty. Do me the 
favor to call in half-an-hour, and the final document will be ready 
for your signature. Au revoir ! [Paul looks at him, and exits, l. 1 
e.] Confound the fellow, he looks dangerous. He won't do any- 
thing until he has been here again. 

Enter Alice, excited, l. 1 e. 

Al. Why was I subjected to this mortification, sir 1 ! 

Fox. What, my dear madam ? 

Al. Could you not by some congenial subterfuge have prevented 
me from meeting him ? 

Fox. Him? Whom? 

Al. Whom ? My husb Paul — I mean Mr. Weldon. 

Fox. Your husband, Paul, and Mr. Weldon — my dear madam, 
that Cerberian personage is my client. He was with me on busi- 
ness, very particular business. 

AL Might I know what ? 

Fox. Certainly. It is unfortunately of such a nature that you 
must know it. 

Al. Well, sir, I am all attention. 

Fox. I see you are, — pray sit down. 

Al. Excuse me, I'd rather not ! Go on, sir ! What is this very 
particular business ? 



48 THE GAME OF LOVE. 

Fox. I presume, from all appearances, that it is a matter you 
have long secretly wished might take place, although, perhaps, not 
exactly in the mode suggested. 

Al. To what, sir, does all this tend 1 

Fox. Don't be precipitate — take everything coolly, as I do. You 
were at Mrs. Hautton's ball the other night ? 

Al. Well, sir, and what of thatl 

Fox. Did you observe nothing of interest thereat ? Think. 

Al. Since you will probe my heart, I'll tell you what I saw ! 
That he, whose name I blush to bear, was beneath the lowest thought 
of any woman who had within her soul the smallest particle of 
woman's pride. 

Fox. To be sure, that's it exactly ! You saw him dancing with 
Miss Meredith, that's the common-place translation of your highly 
poetical outburst. 

Al. How do you know that 1 

Fox. Professionally ! She's very lovely ! 

Al. Sir! 

Fox. And very rich ! Can you now imagine what his business 
was with me just now 1 Although I am aware that you care 
nothing for him, yet, you see, I approach my subject with proper 
delicacy. 

Al. What can you mean 1 You torture me ! 

Fox. If one person should undervalue an article of personal pro- 
perty, and another should endeavor fairly to obtain it, — it would be 
but natural. 

Al. You don't mean to say that she dares to aspire — that he — let 
me know plainly what you want. I am in no mood to be irritated 
by hints and metaphors. 

Fox. I want nothing but my fees. What he wants, to speak 
plainly, is to marry again. 

Al. He does ! — Oh ! that I were a man, or that it were not un- 
womanly to take a man's revenge on him and her, and all of ye ! 

[Crosses r. 

Fox. Towards him and me, you might have, perhaps, the shadow 
of a reason for this warmth of expression, but why to" her ? Was 
it not plain to the world how little store you set by him, with what 
crushing haughtiness you cast him off? 

Al. Ah ! — You must have known, have seen, or else your per- 
ception was of little value, — no matter, — it is now too late, — but 
not too late to frustrate your base purpose. Do you suppose that 
I do not see beyond this transparent veil of legal sophistry ? For 
mere personal advantage, for some miserable bribe, you have con- 
cocted this scheme ! Fool ! had I known your price, you might 
have trebled it. 

Fox. 1 might have made a better bargain, perhaps, — but I am 
satisfied. 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 49 

Al. Traitor ! but my consent she shall never have! [Crosses l. 

Fox. She 1 She don't want it, — but he will. 

Al. Never ! 

Fox. Why, in the name of all that's inconsistent, you don't mean 
to infer that you love this man ? 

Al. I do ! I do ! — I dared not whisper to myself how much, — 
but now the barrier of pride is overthrown, — and I am humbled, — 
humbled to the very dust. 

Fox. Well, this is a pretty business ! Who would have imagined 
such a thing ! not that I believe it for an instant. Don't flash your 
eyes at me, as if you wished they were loaded. Prove it, — in our 
business, proof is everything. 

Al. You forget, sir, that there is nothing left for me now, but 
the sacredness of my own sorrow. 

Fox. Why should you make him wretched as well 1 True love 
is ever unselfish. 

Al. Answer me this, sir ! — Does he wish if? 

Fox. He does. 

Al. But if he knew the confession I have just made 

Fox. It wouldn't alter his desire. 

Al. Then be it so. [Crosses to table, r. h.] Whatever motives 
may influence you, I have but myself to blame ! [After a pause she 
signs.] And now, sir, however I may suffer, I have yet pride enough 
left to beg that you'll be silent. Save me, at least, from the degra- 
dation of pity. 

Fox. Play your game as you choose, you'll soon have an oppor- 
tunity of giving your own impression to the world. 

Al. How sol 

Fox. He is coming to receive your decision. 

Al. Coming ! And must I see him 1 

Fox. I think it would be advisable. [A ring.] Ah ! that is he, no 
doubt, — exactly to his time. 

Al. Ah ! he's in haste, indeed, to break his fetters off! 

Fox. It looks like it, — don't it] 

Enter Paul, l. He starts on seeing Alice. They salute coldly. 

Paul. [To Fox.] I trust I haven't kept you waiting? 

Fox. Oh, not at all. 

Al. [Bitterly.] I must say, sir, that your punctuality is beyond 
all praise. 

Paul. Madame, I am entirely at your disposal. 

Al. Thank you ! You are exceedingly considerate. 

Paul. 1 presume, sir, the sooner this matter is brought to a termi- 
nation, the better. The lady, I imagine, will hardly wish to prolong 
the interview. 

Al. [Aside.] His coolness is insufferable. Certainly, the sooner 
the better. 

3 



50 THE GAME OF LOYE. 

Fox. Nothing like dispatch. [Bell rings, l. h.] Who can this be ? 
Oh ! the witnesses, I suppose. 
Paul and Al. Sir ! witnesses ! 

Fox. To be sure ! I've summoned them here. The original 
contract must be rescinded in the presence of those who saw it 
made. 

Al. This mortification is unendurable ! 

{Walks about passionately. 
Paul. I trust, sir, that this day's work will bring pleasant reflec- 
tions to your after-years. 
Fox. I hope so — I hope so. 

[ Comes down laughing. They approach him at each side, and sim- 
ultaneously turn away angrily — he still laughs, to their great an- 
noyance. 

Enter, l. 1 e., Mrs. De M. aud Mr. De M. 

Fox. How do you do, Mrs. De Merfiel Mr. De Merfie, how are 
you, sir 1 

Mrs. De M. What's the broolery? What is it all about? Ah! 
ma chere Mrs. F. — my darling Mrs. Fox, there you are, looking as 
lovely as a bucket of roses. 

Fox. Pray be seated, \_All sit. Business.'] Hem ! I took the 
liberty of inviting you all here to witness an interesting ceremonial. 
[To Paul ] I really wouldn't betray so much irritation. [To Alice.] 
Pray let me have your serious attention for a few moments. [Reads.] 
" Whereas, we, the undersigned, having become entirely and completely 
disgusted with each other's society — " 

[Paul and Alice start up. 

Paul. Adhere to truth, sir, if you please ! 

Alice. I sanctioned no such observation ! 

Fox. Pardon me, I proceeded from inference. 

Enter Grace, l. 1 e. 

Ah ! Mr. Grace, glad to see you ! Just in time ! [To Paul, who 
scowls at Grace.] The agent for the prospective intended. — The 
friend of the lady. [To Alice, who astonishes Grace with a look. 

Grace. Have we any hope 1 

Fox. You shall see. 

Paid. I protest against the continuance of this disgraceful scene ! 

Alice. So do I ! There can be no necessity for so much publicity. 

Fox. As you please. 

Mr. De M. We had better retire. I certainly cannot compli- 
ment you on the delicacy of your conduct, Mr. Foxglove ! 

Mrs. De M. It's dreadful ! it's too bad ! Come, let us go ! 

Fox. Business is business. [Laughing. 

Alice. Heartless ! 

Paul. Treacherous ! 
Mr. De M. Disgraceful ! 



I 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 51 

Mrs. l)e M. Unpardonable ! 

Fox, Stop one moment, pray ! Perhaps it would be more deli- 
cate, under the circumstances, to allow the young people to take 
leave of each other. All annoyances and incompatibilities, I have no 
doubt, will be forgotten in the parting. [Goes up with the rest, and 
appears to explain to them the actual state of things. Paul and Alice 
approach each ether. ] , 

Paul. [Aside.] What can I say to her 1 Did I suppose she had 
one atom of feeling for me, or knew the heart-pang of this instant, 
it were some alleviation But no, 'tis I alone must suffer ! 

Alice. [Aside] Now would I give half my life, even at this last 
moment, could I but let him know how my soul yearns to humble 
itself before him ! He loved me once, and I, fool, fool that I was, 
contemned and spurned him ! My thoughts are drifting towards a 
sea of breakers, and he stands before them, stern, cold, and im- 
passable as a rock ! Yes, my own self-respect alone can save me 
now ! One effort to escape the shame, and then to drown, alone 
and silently ! 

Paul. Alice ! I beg pardon — Miss Devereaux. 

Alice. Sir ! 

Paul. Still so proud and unbending 1 Yet if she wishes to wed 
again, why should I humble myself by any exhibition of weakness ] 
I see you are impatient — pardon me for this last demand upon your 
kindliness — but as we shall never meet again, will you not grant 
me — that is, you won't refuse me [Alice turns to him] one — I mean 
— won't you — won't you shake hands with me 1 

[Alice tarns from him. 

Paul. Is it too much to ask of you, Alice? 

Alice. Ah ! no, no ! [They shake hands. 

Paul. Farewell, farewell, dear, dear Alice ! 

[They involuntarily fall into each other 's arms. 

Fox. [Coming down.] Hollo! Stop! Confound it, this will 
never do ! 

Paul. Off! off! base trafficker in hearts! This instant is my 
own, the proudest, meanest, happiest, saddest, in my miserable life ! 

Alice. Paul — beloved ! Must we part 1 

Fox. Why, certainly you must ! 

Paul. It is too late ! Had we but known this, Alice ! 

Fox. But you see you didn't. I did ! [They both turn suddenly. 

Paul. You ! 

Alice. Can such perfidy exist ! 

Fox. There, there ! Take a respectful leave of each other, and 
don't waste time. 

Paul. 'Tis a proper hint, sir, although a heartless one. Alice, 
may you be happy in your choice ! [ Crosses c. 

Alice. I thank you for restoring me to myself. May your 
wedded life be all you hope for ! 



52 THE GAME OF LOVE. 

Paul. [Starts'] Mine ! [Looks alternately at Alice and at Foxglove.] 
Ha ! there's a gleam of sunlight ! Alice, are you about to be mar- 
ried ? 

Alice. No, are you 1 

Paul. No, no ! Where is that document 1 let me see it ! 

[Takes paper, reads, and expresses relief and embarrassment. 
Fox. Read it. 

Paul. I cannot, ! my sight is dimmed ! 

Fox. Then I will. " Mr. and Mrs. Paul Weldon present their 
compliments to their good friends Mr. and Mrs. Counsellor Foxglove, 
and will be happy to receive them at their home, on — you see, I leave 
a blank for the day and date — being their first reception party since 
their marriage. [Paul and Alice both rush to him. 

Mrs. Be M. I declare, quite romantic ! What a dear, good crea- 
ture he is ! 

Fox. Mr. Grace will be good enough to get up the affair, for it 
must be of the most stylish order, I tell you ! Ha ! ha ! Mrs. Fox- 
glove, embrace me ! I forgive — I mean let me have your forgiveness ! 
Do you take back all those complimentary observations, or must I 
bring my action for slander? You rogues ! you poor blind blun- 
derers, who would insist upon darkening your road of life, it's well 
I lighted a lamp to show you your way clearly ! Ain't you glad your 
arms are long enough to reach him ? 
Paul. But one word ! Forgiveness — 

'Alice. Dare we ask it 1 [ They embrace him. 

Fox. To be sure ! Bless you both ! I think you'll be happy now 
— you and all of us, I trust. 

Grace It shall not lack my aid to make it general. 
Mr. Be M. Nor mine. 
Mrs. Be M. Nor mine. 

Enter Ted Murphy, l r. 
Ted. Nor mine. 

Mrs. Be M. Oh you wretch ! what have you done to yourself 
now ? 

Ted. Bedad, I've only got myself back to myself, a little the worse 
for the wear, may be, but" it's welcome I am to myself, any way — I 
was in a quandary with them things you gave me — I couldn't use 
my arms or my legs, any way, and as scrimmages are mighty thick 
now, it's mighty hard when a man can't either right or run away. 

Mrs. Be M. What on earth brought you here, you untutored 
Buffalo 1 

Ted. Bedad, I heard you were here, and I kern to show you my 
new shuit, and to ax you to air them wid me in a walk down the 
Broadway. 

Mrs. Be M. What ! with you, you fright. There — you shall have 
your acre of ground, and the pig — you're only fit company for quad- 
ruples. 



THE GAME OF LOVE. 53 

Enter Chubb and Perkins, in wedding dresses. 

Chnbb. I beg pardon for coming in without the bell, or rather 
with a belle. Oh, Perkins, my happiness is a swellin' within my 
waistcoat like 

Perkins. Like what 1 

Chubb. Like too much puddin'. 

Perkins. Have done, do — you mustn't talk like a boy now. 

Mr. Be M. Why, can I believe my eyes 1 Is that the lad Chubb, 
decked out in such an antideluding style ? 

Chubb. The lad ! no. mam, it's the man Chubb, the emancipated 
slave of buttons ; the bud has bursted into a blossom at last, the 
sucker has growed into a tree, in proof of which I am about to take 
upon myself the cares and the caresses, the blessings and the 
(Perkins, ah !) vissisitudes of a wedded life, and if the counsellor 
will only condescend to join our hands together in the handcuffs of 

harmony 

Alice, Is this true, Perkins 1 — are you going to leave us ? 
Perkins. I know, mum, that I didn't ought to, but hearts is hearts, 
mum, and Mr. Chubb was so exhuberatious. 

Mrs. Foxglove. You see, counsellor, how dangerous is example. 
And as we all of us have something to forgive, if not to forget, let us 
determine so to regulate the future that the fulness of its presen^ 
joys may thoroughly redeem the errors and the follies of the past. 

EPILOGUE. 

Fox. Now all has ended happily. 

Chubb. Not yet ! Good gracious, we're not married — you forget.. 

Perki?is. And. if it's your intention to stand still 
At this here point, I fear we never will. 

Chubb. Oh don't say that — do, please, sir, join our hands. 

Mrs. Be M. Stay ! don't be hasty, I forbid the banns ; 
Do you forget how many hands and voices 
Must here be joined before one heart rejoices : 

Grace. You wern't aware, perhaps, you were invited, 
In the strong hope that you'd be all united. 

Paul. Open the pleadings, counsellor. 

Fox. You mean sum up the case, of course, ahem ! 

We lean, may it please your honors, upon you, 
You know the law upon this point, and practice too. 
It's the first time I've pleaded in this court ; 
Say, may I hope to find a good report 1 

Mrs. Foxglove. I played a selfish game, I must confess. 
You have forgiven me, but I yearn no less 
•To hear from you the kind admission made 
That you approve the way in which we've played. 

Mrs. Be M. My game has been to keep up the repute 
Of our grand relations. 



54 TrfE GAME OF LOVE. 

Ted. Oh, bother ! 

Mrs. de M. Brute, you have no sontimong ! you stupid lout, why 
don't you say something 1 

Ted. Arra, what about 1 

Maybe the rich relations that I left behind 

Might feel shamefaced to hear me speak my mind. 

I don't know why I shouldn't ; the best way to jump 

From any danger is to meet it plump. 

I can't say much, like Mickey Roney's parrot, 

That was as dumb as any other carrot ; 

He never yet was known to speak a wink, 

But then he was a wonderful great bird to think. 

I'll hould my tongue, whatever thoughts may warm me, 

And let my acts, such as they are, speak for me. 
Al. What can I urge to justify my game ? 

Nothing, except I'm really not to blame. 

The cards were dealt to me just as they stood, 

I had to play them the best way I could. 

You held the stakes, and well have watch'd our pay ; 

If we've won favor, then be pleased to play. 

Don't be afraid to lead a hearty cheer 

Those hearts are trumps, they'll follow suit, don't fear ! 
Paul. Patrons and friends, with you remains the power 

To fill the measure of this happy hour. 

The cards are with you now, you understand; 

Just deal around, and give us all a hand : 

Should your decision in our favor prove, 

Our game will be indeed a Game of Love I 



THE END. 






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